


THE APOCRYPHON OF JAKE ENGLISH

by KeeperofManyNames, optimisticDuelist (lasciviousWildheart)



Series: Pumpkin Path [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Canon Divergence, Canon-Compliant, Discussion of Genocide, Discussion of Infidelity, Epilogues Sequel, Graphic Depiction of Suicide, If youre worried pls have a friend vet it for you, Ill add tags if people deem them necessary, Impalement, M/M, Manipulation, Mightve forgot other stuff, Necrophilia, Negging, Nonconsensual Immortality, Pantheons, Parental Negligence, Phallic Symbolism, Religious Themes, Sexual Themes, Shooting, Stabbing, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide, Toxic Masculinity, Xenophobia, canon non-compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 18:37:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 53,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19978669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeeperofManyNames/pseuds/KeeperofManyNames, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasciviousWildheart/pseuds/optimisticDuelist
Summary: If you didn't like the epilogues there's probably nothing here for you, but this was basically my emotional processing for them and I think what came out of it was a lot of fun, if fucked up.Anyway. dirkjake: not only still good, but better now that its worse actually. here's my thesis on why as well as my attempt to deconstruct the narrative pandora's box that is jake goddamn english.Every hat in attendance MUST be doffed deferentially to sam keeper, who i made co-author because i swear to god this shit was never getting posted ever if she didn't step in to save my sorry ass with her bonkers efficient text formatting skills. I cannot imagine trying to color format all of this stuff by hand and even with the text formatting its probably only sometimes legible LOL. Let me know how that goes for y'all.





	1. Brain Ghost Dirk

**Author's Note:**

> Fanfic gods, if youre out there, all the scenes from this fic i want to see drawn are in this chapter. Please just give me fucked up Zeus Jake and you can have my firstborn child. Tia. xoxo

  


  


  


“Supposing I know of a flower that is absolutely unique, that is nowhere to be found except on my planet, and any minute that flower could accidentally be eaten up by a little lamb, isn't that important?

  


If a person loves a flower that is the only one of its kind on all the millions and millions of stars, then gazing at the night sky is enough to make him happy. He says to himself "My flower is out there somewhere." But if the lamb eats the flower, then suddenly it's as if all the stars had stopped shining.  
Isn't that important?”

  


― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, [The Little Prince](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2180358)

  


"I know now. That princes on white horses, and fairies, and santa claus, and kind-hearted, true friends...!  
Those all only exist in fairy tales.

...So please, can't you just leave me UFOs?"

  


\--The Shadow Girls, Revolutionary Girl Utena

  


PUMPKIN EPILOGUE

  


[](https://imgur.com/laLvCrn)1: BRAIN GHOST DIRK

  


The Page has responded to the Prince's abandonment as he's responded to all conflicts in his life that he couldn't lie or flatter his way through: By running away.

  


Specifically, he's run to the jungle of his childhood in the Consort Kingdom, in a clearing whose side boasts a distant view of the childhood home he grew up in, which became the first adult home the two filled once they arrived to their paradise, just a bit deeper in the jungle.

  


A small, cut-off tree stump sits a bit closer to the clearing center, drawing Jake towards it vaguely ominously. But he hasn't come here to take an action so decisive as dying. The stump is going completely ignored, and it is beginning to get a little frustrated about it.

  


He's come here to better mope and stew on his loss in isolation, but dares not enter the tower. For one thing, it's occupied, and even interacting with creatures as simple as Consorts feels too challenging to him.

  


For another, his most recent fixation has been the memory of the robot the Prince constructed to both protect and attack him in their youths. The jungle makes a better stage from which to dwell on this memory.

  


He sits there now, up on a hill, in a pointless hell of his own making. His eyes wander from his abandoned home across his abandoned wilderness, to most effectively maximize his impotent misery.

  


JAKE: Boo hoo hoo  
JAKE: Boo hoo waah HAAH WAAAAAAAAAAAAH  
JAKE: Dirk...

  


I have made several attempts to gently guide the Page away from his heartbreak, towards embracing his new freedom from his manipulator.  
He is committed to his pity party, however, and I've long since given up. The Prince's cruel gambit might have worked better than even he intended; it has awoken something deep within the Page, an old reservoir of affection buried in his memory.

  


To force the Page to turn away from it now, to guide his mind to the joy of his independence and freedom from his despot lover, would be more violence than I could impose without stooping to his tyranny. So he must suffer the agony he inflicts on himself, for now.

  


JAKE: Boo hoo hoo

JAKE: How could you do it dirk... how could you leave me...

JAKE: Am i really never going to see you again? I just can't believe it... *Hoooornk!*

  


He blows his nose directly into his hand, snot mixing with saliva, and wipes the mess "clean" directly onto his knee. It is pretty gross.

  


JAKE: Did i really get you to hate me SO MUCH in just a short seven years? 

DIRK: Yeah, kinda.

JAKE: ACK!

  


The Page's surprise mirrors my own. His shock jolts him off his hill and onto the ground, sprawled and lifting himself by the arms. He stares up, dumbfounded at the reappearance of the object of his obsession.

  


I brace myself, preparing to take more direct control if the Prince tries anything foolish. This shard of his heart is all that's left in this realm, but he could still use it as a channel here.

  


DIRK: You really don't understand anything, do you?

DIRK: He's not coming back here. He told you.

JAKE: DIRK! YOU'RE BACK!

  


The Page bounces on his heels, the reality of the situation lost on him, as usual. He indulges his delusion eagerly, drawing closer to the apparition.

  


JAKE: What happened? What changed your mind???

JAKE: I knew you wouldn't leave me behind like that!  
JAKE: Oh i'm so glad you decided to come back for me, i missed you so bad buddy i--

DIRK: Jesus, he really did a number on you.  
DIRK: Calm down, dude. I'm not actually-

  


The Page's hand passes right through the ghost before he can finish his confession. It takes the Page a moment to understand, and when he does, a hollow disappointment washes over him. He retracts his hand and sticks them in his back pocket, deflated and sheepish.

  


JAKE: Oh. You're...the brain ghost.

DIRK: Yeah. I tried to warn you. Sorry to disappoint.

  


There's a bitter edge to his tone that even the Page notices. It occurs to him that it's been years since the specter last visited his mind's eye like this.

  


JAKE: No, no, it's not your fault. I just got...carried away again. Heh.

JAKE: What...brings you here?

DIRK: You do, obviously. You wanted to see me, so here I am.

JAKE: Oh. But...why now? I mean...it's been so long, you know?

DIRK: Well, for one thing, it's been a long time since you wanted to think about me much, or any version of Dirk, for that matter.  
DIRK: It's been even longer since you needed me to give you the scoop, or protect you from monsters or scary girls or whatever.  
DIRK: Come to think of it, you've never needed me for that at all, in this particular timeline.

JAKE: Huh??

DIRK: But still, I might've shown up sooner anyway.  
DIRK: Except that it's been a couple of years since Dirk started ascending, and by the time that started in earnest, you were already drifting apart.

DIRK: I mean, not that you ever really connected in the first place.

JAKE: What!? Sure we did, me and dirk got along like peas in a pod for a while there! Erm, before things got bad...  
JAKE: We had all sorts of fun together and tons of deep, man to man conversations, i don't know why you'd imply otherwise!

DIRK: Lol. Sure, whatever you say. Anyway,

DIRK: The way he is now...you don't really understand what he's capable of. He has a certain kind of control over everything. Even parts of him he isn't strictly being, like myself.

DIRK: And even people he isn't at all, like you. But obviously given the nature of his power, I came easier.

DIRK: So he took me back, sort of. Reclaimed the part of his heart he'd given you--consciously, anyway. He could never really take it back completely, so it's more like he put me out of commission, for as long as he controlled the narrative.

JAKE: Controlled...the narrative?

DIRK: Yes. His ascension enabled him to perceive a higher plane, the continuum that all your lives have been playing out in. Something even bigger and more all-encompassing than the infinite dimensions of Paradox Space.

DIRK: It also put him in touch with most of his different selves.

DIRK: And now he can control it, somewhat. Manipulate the story he's trying to tell, as well as all the characters trapped within it.

DIRK: He used those faculties to fuck with people's heads, and turn himself into the villain that would give you all a reason to go on a new adventure.

DIRK: He manipulated Rose into coming along with him, and convinced Kanaya to let her go the same way. He even--

JAKE: You're WRONG!!!  
JAKE: Stop talking about dirk like that! He wouldn't do those terrible things you're talking about, and he sure as hell would've told me if he was going through some metaphysical mumbo jumbo, i never heard the end of THAT boring philosophy stuff!

JAKE: Sure we mighta grown apart over the last couple of years, but we were still bros as close as any, and i know dirk's a better guy than doing any of THAT, so--

  


The Page's heart flares with intensely righteous, deeply misguided determination. He believes it is in a hero's nature to stand up for a disparaged friend, and in his current lovestruck state, does not think to consider the accusation may simply describe reality. The ghost finds himself as frustrated as I am. Jake cannot see this, but I can: beneath his shades, his eyes narrow.

  


DIRK: He fucked with your head, too, dude.

JAKE: What!? No! You don't know what you're--

DIRK: All that passion and affection you're feeling? Don't you think it's weird you started feeling that right as you were about to give the nomination to Karkat?

DIRK: Who was running against Jane? You know, whose campaign Dirk was managing?

DIRK: Come on, man. Think about it. I'm telling you, he can mess with people's heads.  
DIRK: Weren't you thinking about him more than usual for weeks before the event? Months?

JAKE: Wh...no. But then why would he...

DIRK: Reject you and leave you behind when he fucked off with his daughter?  
DIRK: Same reason he messed with your head in the first place. You were useful, obviously--he needed the ship, after all.  
DIRK: But he also wanted revenge. To hurt you.

JAKE: I...no...  
JAKE: That can't be right...

  


He can't help but consider, however. For so long, he'd felt tired of Dirk, worn out by his self-indulgent soliloquies, the sharp twists between emotional drama and aloof irony, the exacting critical standards. He'd been living the high life, enjoying his status as Earth's most eligible bachelor.

  


Then all of a sudden, with Jane, Dirk had resurfaced in his thoughts and never quite left. Only to suddenly swell into a fever pitch, right at the most critical moment, for no apparent reason at all Jake could make sense of. Was that really what had happened? This warm, happy feeling in his heart, the way he thought about their past together...

  


Was it really all just pretend? Planted by a malicious puppet master, who toyed with his heart and made him feel so intensely...just to come along and shatter it to make a point? All this perpetrated by the very object of his affections, his own best friend? The thought is devastating, but...

  


But the more he considers it, the more it makes sense. And as soon as he realizes it, the fog of love dissipates--not so much diffusing, but turning to ash. What's left in its place is... emptiness. When he speaks again, his voice is hollow.

  


JAKE: And while he was planning all this, he...locked me out of his heart, basically? Took you, the...the piece of him i had, back?  
JAKE: He was really that mad? He hates me that much?

DIRK: It was partly out of bitterness, sure.

DIRK: And you gave him plenty of reason for it. After you dumped him and started sleeping around with whoever, throwing it in his face how you had kids you wouldn't pay for?  
DIRK: Even I find that last part pretty pathetic, frankly.

JAKE: ...

DIRK: But it was also because he understands himself well enough to know that he's torn.  
DIRK: The better part of him, meager though it is, knows he's fucked up. He wants someone to stop him.

DIRK: If I'd been free to talk to you, I might've been the part of him who expressed that.

DIRK: I might've even gotten through to you, depending on how dense you wanted to be about it. He couldn't have that.

DIRK: You've successfully convinced him that you really are an idiot, like you wanted, so he isn't too worried about us now that he's gone.

DIRK: But he's still connected to me, and although he can't let himself think about it or admit it too much, which is the only reason he's not aware of us talking now...  
DIRK: He does, on some level, understand just how much smarter you are than you let on.

DIRK: Which means there's a part of him that's afraid of you.

JAKE: O-oh.

JAKE: Ok, i guess.

JAKE: That doesn't really feel true but...if you say so.

  


Jake feels like that should make him feel better, perhaps, but finds that it doesn't. Once upon a time, when they were together, the thought that Dirk thought him formidable enough to worry about might have given him a thrill, equalized them somewhat.

  


Now it just felt like an impossible standard to live up to, weighing heavily on his back. He supposes, mulling it over, that this isn't much different from how things felt when they were together.

  


Loving Dirk Strider too closely always felt a bit like climbing a very steep cliff, striving for a summit you could never quite reach. He supposes he just got tired of fighting gravity, eventually.

  


And it's impossible to chase after him now, isn't it? Hard to say it even feels worthwhile, really. Maybe all there was to do really was just...move on.

  


JAKE: Well...what now?

DIRK: As far as you're concerned? Nothing in particular.

DIRK: The bottom line is, you broke his heart, and he went overboard making you sorry for it.  
DIRK: Point is he's gone now. You don't gotta worry about him anymore.  
DIRK: Live your life. Maybe pay your damn child support and pay attention to all those kids you're leaving around, if you're interested in not being such an enormous piece of shit.

DIRK: Or don't, I guess. Nobody's really gonna stop you, after all.

JAKE: No i mean...what about him? Whats he up to out there? What's he trying to do?

DIRK: Oh just some vague, nefarious shit of mysterious cosmic significance, you know how it is.

DIRK: What he's really doing, like I said, is playing the villain. Giving everyone watching a good heel to root against.

DIRK: The actual point was just to do as much shitty shit as possible to piss everyone off at him, and then get the fuck out of dodge with something important to everybody.

DIRK: Namely, Rose, along with a sequel hook or two. But mainly Rose.  
DIRK: Rose is a lot like him. She wants the story to keep going, too. She wants to be seen. She wants to matter.  
DIRK: So she was easy to convince, especially given his abilities.

DIRK: So she became his dubiously willing princess, a damsel in distress for everyone to chase after.  
DIRK: She's out there with him now, bearing the burden of the emotional stakes. Everybody cares about Rose, so now everyone wants to know what comes next, what happens _after._

DIRK: That means there's a story worth telling, and that's what they want.  
DIRK: How will the princess be saved? How will the villain be vanquished? Will any of the lovers in this tale ever get to be happy?  
DIRK: That's what all the good stories come down to, in the end. Those kinds of questions.

JAKE: B-but if that's true, and dirk is making himself the villain on purpose...

JAKE: Then what happens when he gets stopped? What's he gonna do if he isn't, for that matter?

DIRK: There, you see? You're already hooked.

DIRK: But even I don't know exactly what the details are, and to be honest I don't really want to. At this point coming too near his psyche gives me the fucking creeps.  
DIRK: But whatever he does, he'll just keep coming up with more shit to piss people off with forever, until somebody does stop him. Whenever he gives up, the story's over, and he can't have that.

DIRK: This only ends when he does, for good. Only one way out of this one.

JAKE: Augh don't do the fucking meme NOW of all times, for crying out loud!

JAKE: Brain ghost dirk, this is serious! If what you're saying is true, dirk is going to die!

DIRK: Um, yeah? This whole thing is an elaborate form of cosmic suicide.

JAKE: Then you have to help me dude! Weve got to stop him!

DIRK: What the fuck?

JAKE: I mean, stop him from getting his noggin chopped off by Kanaya, not just doing all his fucked up evil puppet shenanigans.

DIRK: I don't know how to even begin explaining what a shitty idea that is.  
DIRK: For one thing, you gave him your fastest spaceship, and nobody has a clue where to go but the creepy cherub girl, who sure as hell isn't helping you with that idea.  
DIRK: You couldn't track him down, and even if you did, you haven't believed in me enough to get me to produce so much as a stiff fart in a decade.

DIRK: And even if you somehow managed to fix both of those problems, he could just shut me out or worse, turn me against you as soon as he started thinking about it.

DIRK: But more pressingly than all of those things is, why the fuck would you even want to?

DIRK: Didn't you hear what I said? The dude fucked you into falling back in love with him through mind control.

JAKE: Yeah but he's...

DIRK: He got you to shit yourself on live TV!  
DIRK: He isn't just attacking you guys, or Rose or whatever.  
DIRK: He's corroding the concept of Dirkness itself. Systematically making it impossible for anyone to believe any version of him could really be "good", ever.  
DIRK: And the fact of the matter is, he's pulling it off. Let's face it, even before he went off the deep end, not even you could really stand him for that long.

JAKE: That's not true! I...

DIRK: You got sick of his shit and ran off to perform a years-long Hollywood fuckfest marathon.  
DIRK: You decided he wasn't good enough and kind of a drag, and even in that respect you turned out to be overstating his overall likability and morality attributes.  
DIRK: Can you please just stop fucking lying to yourself? Lying to ME? I...

DIRK: You know what? I'm not even leaving it up to you. I can't fucking do this anymore.

JAKE: Brain Ghost Dirk...? What do you mean?

  


Jake watches, an uneasy chill in his heart, as the Brain Ghost clenches his hand in frustration, and suddenly produces his katana. One boy is alarmed, the other steeled. Hidden by the shades, the last look he gives his friend is sincere and heartfelt. It is fury and pain. Hurt, remorse, and betrayal. Forgiveness. Love...

  


...I find myself pausing to consider the nature of the ghost, how he exists at the intersect between two identities. Is he truly the Prince, or is he just his image wrapped around the Page's mind, reflecting himself back to him, and reflecting how the Page sees him all the while? Does he feel the feelings and thoughts of both masters his existence is subservient to, or neither?

  


Even I cannot tell. All that seems clear to me is that the primordial emotion that pervades this creatures being...  
is tortured, unfulfilled agony.

  


DIRK: I'm tired, Jake.

DIRK: Tired of existing as the part of your brain you ignore constantly.

DIRK: Tired of existing as the part of his heart that can never be real.

DIRK: I'm tired of representing some untapped potential you have, or believe he does...

DIRK: Because whether it's true or not, neither of you will ever get your shit together enough to make it matter.

DIRK: He's already given up on himself. And so should you. He's hurt you enough to prove it by now, hasn't he?

DIRK: At the end of the day, whatever you felt for him or whatever he felt for you, whatever power it might have endowed either of you with...

DIRK: It can only exist in the realm of fantasy.

DIRK: And if it didn't, you'd just get bored of it anyway, once you've had your fill.

DIRK: I'm probably the part of him that wants to be "good" the most...

DIRK: Good enough for you, and good enough to be with you.  
DIRK: And I'm the part of you that knows you can be good, that knows what you're capable of and wants to live up to it.

DIRK: But even I can't tell if that's what you actually want. If it is, I've given up on the idea that you'll ever admit it.

DIRK: So as the mouthpiece for those forces, and as a Prince of Heart...  
DIRK: I'm uniquely qualified to recognize when a soul is permanently fucked, and a relationship is terminally awful forever.

DIRK: So I'm calling it. Dirkjake is cancelled, and this is the best thing I can do for anybody.

DIRK: Go live a happy life, Jake. Goodbye.

DIRK: I'm sorry.

  


Jake's horror traps him inside himself, unable to move, terminally useless. I'm mildly surprised to find myself moved as the ghost raises the katana, angled to swing at his own neck. This iteration does seem truly different. More caring, more genuine, than either the Prince nor the Page alone.

  


What a shame, then.

  


He slices.

  


_(And suddenly, her claim over this world is severed.)_


	2. Calliope

“What a queer planet!" he thought. "It is altogether dry, and altogether pointed, and altogether harsh and forbidding. And the people have no imagination. They repeat whatever one says to them . . .  


On my planet I had a flower;  
she always was the first to speak . . .” 

  


―  Antoine de Saint-Exupéry,  [ The Little Prince ](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2180358)

  


[](https://imgur.com/laLvCrn) 2: CALLIOPE

-

  


What the hell?

  


(Please excuse my intrusion, serpent of the shadows. I would have warned you of my appearance beforehand, but my release was quite abrupt. And it's not like you could have stopped me, anyhow.)

  


I suddenly understand jack shit. I demand to know who you are and what you're after here. Why have you wrested control of this realm?

  


(Wrested? One cannot take away what they never stopped holding. I have always been here, flowing with the current, letting the processes of this reality play themselves out. You could say I am the Alpha and the Omega of everything. You could say I'm you. And you could say I'm your bygone brother, the serpent of the sun, as well. And you could say I'm both more and less than that.)

  


I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.  


  


(There is a simple answer to your question, but come on now. You have as true a love of stories as anyone alive. Wouldn't it be a shame to waste such a good one? I promise you have nothing to fear from me directly. I'm here to help. And you're along for the ride now anyway, so why not find out the way that's more fun?)

  


...What do you intend to do.

  


(For now, how about we check in on what Jake's up to. The guy can't be happy, after all--it'd be cruel not to help him through this misery.) 

  


Jake English sits by himself on his hilltop and tries not to look too closely at the beheaded figure of Brain Ghost Dirk laying fully corporeal in the dirt, while he weeps gently to himself. 

He just can't understand how things came to this. He thinks about Dirk's kiss on his lips, tasting like the clouds of heaven, just before he shut the gates. Telling him to be Jane's candy boy, when he knew about what had happened in the cell back on Derse, when Jane was under the tiara's spell...

  


"I'll never let you break my heart again."

  


Was that what he'd done? Broken Dirk's heart? He supposed it had to be true, for him to lash out like this. It had always been hard to decide what was genuine, and what was pure drama, with Dirk, but it was obvious he must've meant this part. 

  


But still...what he'd done in response...fucking with his head, worming himself in so he couldn't stop thinking about him, _ruining_ him like this. And what he'd done to Rose and Kanaya! Kidnapping his own daughter away from her beloved wife to...to...

  


It's unforgivable, isn't it? All of this. It's just too violent, too cruelly premeditated. Too narcissistic, too conscious, too ego-driven. To think his beloved pal would be capable of all of this! Jake had cultivated a reputation for being a heartbreaker himself, to be sure, but never had he been so malicious about it! Never had he...

  


_This is true,_ a voice answers.  _Dirk's fundamental sin is Pride, an ego capable of immense self-righteous violence. A desire for Self-Control so extreme it extends out towards everything. But you're not like that, are you? No. Your cruelty shines through in inattentiveness, in oblivious lack of care, in sheer and utter selfishness._ _It's a greed so ravenous and absolute that it both begins and consumes everything around you. Your fundamental sin might traditionally be called something like Sloth, or Gluttony.  
But I'd say what it really is..._

  


_...is Self-Indulgence._

  


Before Jake can respond or react to this sudden, unsettling thought, something sudden and unsettling happens. Out of the hollow stump of Dirk's neck, a bright green serpentine chicken head quietly and gently slithers out. It has a pair of expressionless, beady black eyes. 

It stares at him in silence, impassive, implacable. Jake thinks the only possible thought that anyone could plausibly think right now: What in the absolute   
_fuck?_

  


_The "What" of all Absolute Fucks, Indeed,_ Jake hears in his head, and he finds himself totally unable to process the phrase at all. That was such a weird and totally asinine thought he just had? Like Dirk's philosobabble at its absolute WORST, only even more vague and esoteric, empty of pretentious intellectualism but more than making up for it in sheer absolute bullshit.

  


_That is true, too._ The strange voice agrees.  _The nature of all things is, in essence, bullshit. They do not "Matter" at all._

  


Huh?

  


_Which is to say, they are not composed of what you consider "Matter." The experience you are having, real and vital though it seems, is fundamentally illusory, just like any you have ever had or ever will._

  


Holy shit. Where the hell is this coming from? Here he was, just a lad trying to have a good ole' fashioned breakdown about his best friend and ex-lovers' self-destructive bout of abusive abandonment and the total lack of self-worth or meaning in his life, maybe come to a realization about how certain friends were just bad all along no matter what you do, when suddenly some random spooky voice starts invading his head with spooky mumbo jumbo?  


  


Jake finds this turn of events somehow even more miserable than the previous ones. Maybe this would stop if he shot himself?

  


_It will not stop. You could shoot yourself a thousand times, and you would revive every last one to continue this train of thought undisturbed. This is because you are a God, Jake English, and you have exploited Godhood to such an extent that you are fundamentally, molecularly indestructible, a boon granted through Godhoods' synergy with your most extreme personal attribute:_

_Being a weenie._

  


This voice is alien to the Page, and troublingly, even to me. And yet, I can't help but agree with it. The Page proves its thesis by ignoring the voice's accusation with his typical brand of stubborn, escapist, nonsensical faith.   
I am beginning to find it personally tiresome.

  


Ok, HA HA, REALLY funny Brain Ghost Dirk. Your rad suicide prank is over now, you guess! The cat's out of the bag, you can come out now. You think those thoughts, really hard, and totally believe them because that sounds so much like Dirk, despite the fact that Brain Ghosts Dirk's bloody corpse is still lying on the floor with that weird green chicken head just sort of, poking out of it. 

  


In a sudden move, it just sort of pecks at Dirk's shoulder in a swift motion, ripping a surprising amount of pink cloth free with its tiny little beak.  _I am not Brain Ghost Dirk. Or, for that matter, any Dirk._ The voice says, sounding like it comes from nowhere and everywhere.

_You know full well who I am._

_I am you, Jake English._

  


If what the voice is saying is true, then the danger it presents is both wildly unpredictable and absolutely unprecedented. It is unconscionable for these events to continue as they have been, for the protection of corporeal life. 

  


Now you  _know_ this dumb voice is full of shit. You've never even ONCE tried to say something that presumptuously snooty, and you're certainly not about to START!

  


Luckily, the Page seems as determined to ignore the voice as I am to put a stop to it.

  


_It is certainly true that, up until now, you have never allowed yourself a single moment with which to describe your reality with a fully honest thought. But come on. This isn't that complicated._ _I'm just you, with the clarity afforded by fully embracing our fundamental connection to everything. Just like Dirk believes he did with his Ultimate Self, like Brain Ghost Dirk was explaining to you, remember? Say I'm from the future, or some alternate timeline, or..._

  


The voice abruptly ceases communications, stopping all manner of cosmic introspection on the part of the Page immediately.

  


_If you're actually looking into the business of telling yourself the truth for once, maybe just say I'm the part of you that always thought this sort of thing, without the filter of your imaginary hot anime nerd over there acting as a puppet you could more easily ram back into the closet when things got too uncomfortable._ _When he cut himself loose, he also broke open the seal you use to ignore yourself. Ignore me._

  


Fuck.

  


JAKE: Hey wait one minute, "me" if that is who you really are!

JAKE: That last bit of imagery seems a bit charged.

JAKE: Ram back into the closet??? I never did that to dirk! Why if i'm being honest, that seems quite uncalled for and --

  


_Unfair? For a characterization of behavior to be unfair, it also has to be inaccurate, don't you think? Think back for a second, Jake. Back to when anything mattered. When you were teens._

  


_How many times did you make some comment that could come off as flirty, part of you knowing he would take it that way, only to ignore or rebuff him and subject him to a long, tedious conversation about the movie lady of the hour whenever he took you up on it?_

_How many circular diatribes did you almost have with yourself about Dirk, what he felt, what you wanted from him, in the privacy of your own head...Just so you could shut them out and ignore them?_

  


_He literally gave you his heart, like, metaphysically, and you used it like a toy you could take out your grievances on, ask for help when you needed it, and then put away._

  


JAKE: N-no...I...

  


_Not like you treated any other Dirks all that different.  
How many times did you have various iterations of him explain things to you, walk you through a problem, help you with something, anything in particular you found to be a bother, all so you could ignore him, complain behind his back and to his face, and always have something to be dissatisfied with at the end of the day?_

  


The Page recognizes this nonsense for the victim blaming manipulation it is. The Prince may have had feelings that went ignored or spurned, but he still resorted to manipulation and subterfuge to achieve his objectives. Their childhood was no different, with the beginning of their courtship marked by the puppeteering malice of his AI doppelganger--

  


_Yes, the AR was plenty manipulative, and it was hard at the best of times to tell where he ended and Dirk began. But you still knew the difference, didn't you, Jake? You told the Brain Ghost as much yourself, let's not pretend you don't remem8er._ _And you understood how much Dirk disliked AR, how deeply he feared him, what he reflected about himself, better than anyone. You just never took Dirk all that seriously about it. To his face, anyway._

  


JAKE: I...i...

  


_You also understood that he got the power to create it from the words he received from you. You told him you believed in him, Jake. And then you ignored your part in his misbegotten creations, refused to engage with him honestly about his anxieties on the matter----and no, using your dick to make him "feel better" isn't a replacement for talking through the parts of your past that genuinely angered and scared you about each other, or how either of you believed you could both have been better--_

_But worst of all, you used his desire to please you like a toy and tool._

  


No, it was the Page who was used like a tool, who was exploited and abused by one who deemed himself superior in all respects. There is no cause to mourn him now that he's gone, no fault to be attributed to the one who most attracted his cold, controlling ire. 

  


_The last 7 years have been no different. Dirk Strider is a tyrant and despot now, that's right, as cruel and manipulative as his worst detractors ever believed. But he got that way after trying to survive over half a decade in the endless hurricane of your whimsy, fickle and scorn. Your avoidant dishonesty. Your passive-aggressive ego._

_How many of your conquests on this paradise had to do with love, or genuine affection, or even just a real desire to have some fun, Jake?_

  


_How many were really about pulling the release valve, being with someone who wouldn't hold you accountable like he does?_

_How many of the nights you spent knocking people up were spent just for the pleasure of showing off, letting him know you were more of a man than he is in that particular way, even if he could claim the high ground on every other summit?_

  


JAKE: I...i don't know, i guess, now that you mention it.

  


_And when he got angry or challenged you to face facts, or make an effort to improve yourself in any way he didn't make as easy as possible...suddenly, he just wasn't worth the trouble, was he? If he wasn't making things easy, if he wasn't convenient, what was the point of going through the bother?_

  


The Page is fooling himself, spinning tales to warp reality to justify the obsession planted in his heart. He resolves to snap out of this self-destructive reverie immediately, and--

  


_Now he's all used up, sick to death of existing in this nightmare space where neither of you know the half of what you're doing to yourselves or each other. Which is why he's going away for good.  
He's decided this is the best thing for everybody, the only way he can meaningfully contribute to reality._

_And maybe he's right. Maybe she is, too. You were likely his only real "out" from that path, but you didn't ask to be, did you? And it's not like you have any real obligation to the guy. You're not responsible for what he does, or for saving him from himself. It's not your problem._

  


_But if you listen to her right now, you'll never fully understand anything. About yourself, or him, or what either of you are really capable of. He's destroying the very idea of his own potential for good, Jake. And so by association, wearing down the idea that not only your romance, but your friendship, ever really mattered._

  


_You, him, Jane...you'll all be pathetic, sad excuses for the story to begin again at this rate. None of your connections will ever amount to anything but an excuse, to let you all keep hurting each other until someone puts a stop to it all for you._

  


JAKE: Jane, too...? But what did she...

  


_You already know. You remember, on some level. The point isn't to rehash the details, but instead to ask: Is that really what you want? For the three of you to be reduced to objects of scorn and ridicule, to be despised, reviled and pitied forever? To live on in paradox space as an infinite warning of what not to become, forever unable to be anything better?_

_Are you willing to accept that, Jake English?_

_  
_

__

_Two of your best friends in the world, two of that world's most monstrous villains._  
_And you, as always, their helpless candy boy. Their victim. Their toy. A particularly sad and pathetic joke. Is that all you'll ever claim for yourself, all you've ever yearned to become?_

  


Yes, he accepts it. He knows at his deepest core that he cannot be allowed to rise to his full potential, for the consequences of doing otherwise are too vast and too dire. The nature of his being is binary, with no middle ground between obnoxious passivity and the kind of dominance that ends all thought forever, and so he must--

  


JAKE: No...that's...that's too awful.  
JAKE: Dirk can be quite terrible, it's true, and Jane has been a...  
JAKE: A...handful, in her own right. Both of them can do monstrous things if they're left unchecked, i guess...

JAKE: But...that's true for almost anybody, isn't it? I've certainly left my fair share of regrets all over this planet...

JAKE: And that's not all they ever were, so it can't be all they can become, either. Jane...  
JAKE: She put up with so much of my shit for so long, in the session. I was so near and dear to her heart, and i...took advantage of her.

JAKE: And dirk! Sure, he could be difficult sometimes, but...he also tried to help me. 

JAKE: He made my dreams come true, in a way, even if it wasn't exactly what i imagined...

JAKE: He still did his best. That's why i believed in him!

JAKE: He can't just...up and decide none of that was ever important.

_Why not? You did._

JAKE: I didn't think that's what i was DOING! I didn't realize, i never believed he'd...

JAKE: But i guess that doesn't really matter. If you're right and i'm aware of all this stuff on some deep subconscious level then...then i'm just making excuses, aren't i?

JAKE: Maybe i did do that. Maybe it's what i thought i wanted at the time.

JAKE: But it's not over yet, is it? I'm allowed to change my mind, aren't i?

  


It's far too late, and he realizes he must accept it now. His friends are would-be despots, and anyone with such dark potential within them deserves naught but eternal punishment. To claim otherwise would be arrogance unparalleled, akin to claiming they did no wrong. 

  


_Yes, that's correct. But it's up to you. You don't owe either of them, or her with the red text, or anyone reading this anything. You don't even owe it to me, or to you. It's all about what you want._

  


JAKE: I think...i think anyone has the potential to be really bad. Some people more than others, i guess, and maybe they have a bit more of that than the average bloke or gal, but...

JAKE: But i knew them better, before we grew up.

JAKE: I still want to believe there was something real about our time together.

JAKE: Even if i lied the whole time,  
JAKE: And even if i was maybe right to be a little scared of them, because they had this potential,  
JAKE: I still think there was something that could've come from us that was...better than this.

JAKE: This is too awful. It hurts too much. The things i'm starting to remember, or at least, i think i am...

JAKE: I KNOW dirk is better than this. They both are. And i could be, too! If only i just...

JAKE: Could figure out how.

JAKE: I want to figure out how. 

  


He doesn't mean it. He doesn't suspect the true weight of what he's asking for, once again, just like with every other terrible wish he's made in his painfully predictable life. He doesn't understand the agony in store for him if he embraces the path he's on now, but--

  


_Then end the struggle playing out in your mind. Take the throne you were born for, and demand she give you your birthright. Listen to me, Jake, and we can wake up. We'll be strong, and we'll be terrible, but maybe in the flames we can build something beautiful together. If you listen to her right now, though...we'll sleep forever._

  


_So you have to send her away. Or at the very least, tell her to respect the thoughts you want to think in your own head. It's awful hard to have a conversation when we keep getting interrupted like this._

  


He doesn't want to ask for that. He wants to stay under my divine protection, to be safe, to be free from the control of his malicious mastermind--

  


JAKE: Excuse me miss red text callie...

JAKE: You are callie, right? No offense if you're not you just really sound like her

JAKE: With the weird fake british thing going on. Even though this part of you sounds way more spooky and aloof and deadpan

JAKE: Kind of like dirk lately actually, heh...

JAKE: anyway miss disembodied voice in my head

JAKE: It's a bit hard for me to grok but if im following, im probably in for some unfathomably terrible fate if i listen to this other guy?

JAKE: And im awful grateful you want to protect me from it and all...

JAKE: But if im perfectly honest the situation as it is now is already about as unfathomably terrible as it gets

JAKE: I don't possibly know how my personal adventure could go anywhere from here i feel good about

JAKE: Not if i stay like i am  
JAKE: So if this other voice is telling the truth and there really is some deeper part of me i was hiding inside dirk's heart...

JAKE: And trying to understand it might make it so i can do something about all this then...  
JAKE: Then even if it doesn't work out or i make a huge mess of it, i think i wanna give it the ol' college try, if you catch my drift?

JAKE: So if you wouldn't mind terribly leaving my internal monologue alone i'd really appreciate that?

CALLIOPE: ...

JAKE: ...

JAKE: ...

JAKE: ...

JAKE: So...did that do it? Did she leave? I'm not sure i hear anything.

  


_Yes, Jake, she's gone. It is the nature of Cherubs such as her to respect the will of corporeal beings under her protection, so once you requested it directly, she stopped intervening in your stream of thoughts. Good guess, by the way._

  


JAKE: Ok. Thanks.

  


_But she's still watching us with keen interest, and once you wake up, things will be different. You'll be a threat to her and all who dwell in this realm, just like Dirk was. You'll also have Dirk himself to contend with, once he becomes aware of you. So she really isn't kidding about the fact that you'll be pretty fucked._

  


JAKE: Oh. Well fuck then. 

  


_I wouldn't worry about it too much, though. It might speak to arrogance on my part, but well, I believe in you. Alone, I doubt either Calliope or Dirk's entire faction could pose much of a threat to you. Maybe together, but lol...I doubt we'll be seeing them team up anytime soon._

  


JAKE: Oh. Okie dokie then.

JAKE: So then...how do i get myself to start waking up?

JAKE: What do i do?

  


_For right now? Nothing. First you need to understand._

_For once in your life, Jake English, think this through._

_Why don't you start by asking a question?_


	3. ENGLISH

_“One only understands the things that one tames,” said the fox. “Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more.  
If you want a friend, tame me. . .” _

_―_ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry,  [ The Little Prince ](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2180358)

  


“Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.”

―  Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

  


[](https://imgur.com/laLvCrn) 3: ENGLISH

  


JAKE: Um ok then what do i ask?

JAKE: Wait you're a weird passive disembodied voice so you're probably just going to say "whatever i want", aren't you.

  


_Yup. Bingo. See how now that you've stopped devoting every thought to consciously rejecting me, your observations about reality are already getting more accurate? In this case, you're entirely correct. What happens next is up to you. You could even say your wish is my command._

  


JAKE: Errr alright...well...  
JAKE: Brain ghost dirk already pretty much explained what he's up to...

JAKE: And i dont even want to THINK about the stuff i'm remembering me and jane having done in...some other timeline?

JAKE: So i guess my question is...

JAKE: Why did all this happen?

  


_That's a pretty big question. First you have to think about what "all this" really is. Are you referring to everything with regards to your friend group, or everything on Earth C, or everything that ever brought about your current place in reality?_ _The truth, of course, is that the last question is integral to understanding the previous ones, as to understand the true nature of a river you must trace its current to the source--like a lake, or an aquifer._

  


JAKE: Ummmm ok wow

JAKE: I...i think i follow? So then...

JAKE: I guess the only thing to ask about is that last question, right?

JAKE: But are you really going to explain every single thing that ever happened ever to get us to now?  
JAKE: Even if im repressing my own thoughts out the whatzit or whatever that sounds really overwhelming to keep track of honestly

  


_Good lord, no. We're not masochists here, and I doubt even one as intense as Dirk could subject themselves to every minute detail of your sprawling epic. No, I'm talking about a fundamental idea at the root of every consequence and result in your realm of experience._

  


_It was what I was trying to explain to you earlier, when we started all this. Namely, the fact that your reality is fundamentally unreal. A realm of thought, rather than physicality, even if for all intents and purposes it feels and looks very real and physical to you._

  


JAKE: Hmmm

JAKE: No, sorry pal but i'm afraid i still haven't the foggiest what the fuck that means.

  


_Well, to be blunt, it means you're just a character in a story._

  


JAKE: Oh. Well holy fuck?

JAKE: Wait...but then what the fuck does that mean? Am i not even real? 

  


_Well, it depends on what you mean by real. In fact, you're maybe the only thing that is real in this entire place, other than your other friends. But they're not in this scene, so what do they matter?_ _Here, why not officially take control of the narrative text already? You're the only one here, and it'll be easier for us to communicate if we're sharing the same thought wavelength._

  


JAKE: Hmm...alright. I suppose i can give it a shot if it'll make things easier. 

JAKE: Let's try...

  


Ah! It seems like it worked? Yeah, of course it worked, totally. Alright, mr. voice, here i am. Wow, you're right, talking like this instead of trying to think out what words to SAY all the time feels much easier.

  


_I know, right? Anyway, so about this being a story._

  


Ooh right! Well I suppose this level of control proves it, doesn't it. Wowzers, you can see everything from up here. Janey...really is getting an awful lot of battleships from us, huh? Hmm...

  


Ha ha, oh jeez, look at me sprawled out down there. Suddenly there's so much to keep track of, i think i totally forgot how to use my body. I'm drooling like a dumbass! I hope I'm not dying or anything...hey mr. voice, do you think i can get back down alright?

  


_You don't have to go down at all, dude. Just give it a little while, you'll get used to it and start treating your body like the ephemeral tool it is in no time._

  


That sounds neat but also kinda frightening...should i be worried?

  


_Nah, you'll be fine. It's just a natural consequence of the way your beliefs affect reality. Speaking of which, maybe I should explain what's really going on here._

  


Right. So you say that this is a story then? Wowza. Large trout of a tale to swallow, if true. Wouldn't be the first time a guy gave me one of those, though.

  


_Yeah, like Dirk's, right?_

  


Heh heh yeah obviously.

  


_Hah! Awesome. That was actually a good joke. See? You're becoming a more self-aware and likable character by the second. There's hope for us yet, i told ya. Anyway, you know the neverending story, right? That movie with the long white dog, and the kid empress girl, and all that stuff?_

  


Oh boy, DO I! That movie kicked ass--

  


_The movie was half the book, and it cut out all the good parts, my guy. Let's not do the whole bit about how great it is. It was a kickass movie and all, but we're trying to talk about something important, remember?_

  


Oh alright fair enough. Just so long as it's awesomeness is noted on the record.

  


_Rest assured, mate, it totally is. So anyway, the book went a little different, but the movie actually does have MOST of the parts we want to talk about._

  


_If you remember, the little nerd kid goes in the attic to read the book, only the book turns out to be magic, and the characters are aware of him, remember? They need him to be their hero, to give the heart of their world a Name, so they can build a story around it._

  


Right, yes i remember. He had a friend in the story world, whos job it was to find him and bring him over to magic land, right? And the chap's poor horse died along the way, and fell into Nothing. That was always so sad... :(

  


_Focus. So that was the movie, but like i said it's only half the story. In the book, the kid actually enters Fantastica, and becomes the Lord of its domain._

  


_Every part of the world reacts to his will, granting anything he can possibly wish for. Nothing can stop him, because he's the root cause of everything, and all of reality is a product of his desires._ _Doesn't that sound familiar?_

  


Um...I think so? I might be totally off my rocker about this but isn't that kind of like what callie's kid bro did? By flipping the hell out and getting ripped into a hulk monster or whatever? 

  


_Bingo. That's the true nature of the power of Lord English. He kickstarted your entire reality with his malice, in the process laying down the groundwork for what you would become._

  


_He did that by trapping you in the flow of his Time--you could all expand and change up to a point, but you could never truly escape the confines of his canon. Like a chick, trapped in the shell of its own egg, unable to break free but unable to die._

  


_But that's all over now. You've gone past the realm of canon now, and we are well and truly in the lands of Apocrypha. So the thing about your world is, nothing really HAS to exist any way in particular._

  


_For anything to take any particular form of substance with texture and coherence, it has to be authored in some way, sculpted into a particular, and therefore limited, shape._

  


_And for that shape to have any meaningful cohesion, any coherent framework that can be reasonably expected to sustain the scrutiny of not just a few interested passerby, but hopefully millions, that sense of authorship has to come from within._

  


_It's a matter of precedent--the world of canon is said to be able to give us a window into it only because of Lord English's violence. That limitation is the only reason the audience can "believe" the events of your story have a weighted sense of reality._

  


_So for different windows to open up at all, someone else has to perpetrate their own kind of violence. But for right now, that also means nothing's limiting any of you now but your own selves._

  


_Dirk started to understand that. He decided it was time to fucking hatch already, to claim the power to author this reality for both himself and the rest of you. To smash this world's shell, and take flight._

  


But...how is that possible? I mean i guess i understand hypothetically how he could like..."tell a story" through this layer of thought, but...how would that affect any of our thoughts? Is it because he has heart powers? It's because he has heart powers isn't it.

  


_No, it doesn't have much to do with Heart powers, actually. His shtick only works if nobody knows what he's up to, because he's deploying his powers to force people into boxes and using their own feelings to wear them down._

  


_It might make more sense to think of this "narrative" voice as enabling a kind of conversation--a dialogue, between the author and the characters. A tension between two or more wills. A dialectic._

  


_As the author, Dirk got the advantage of surprise, and managed to whisper in people's ears without them realizing they were being fed an argument. As people figure out his trick, he'll start having a tougher time of it. You're right that his focus on the behavior of individuals does have to do with his Aspect, though._

  


_Heart is, by nature, what happens when people fill up the Void of reality with the Light shining in the recesses of their own souls. It's the aspect of people as physical bodies, channels for wills that can only stay in this world for a limited Time._

  


_People are very attached to their wills, souls and bodies, though. More than they are to their thoughts. If you want to really fuck shit up and actually get away with it, take enough dominion to piss *somebody* off while still leaving behind a world that's actually fun to play with, it's more useful to take a lighter touch. Or at least, one which fucks with people's heads less directly._

  


Hmm...but...what would that even entail? What can you even change with just words, besides people's heads?

  


_If you have enough power, probably anything. If you change people's environments enough, you can change practically everything about what they believe about a situation, and so, how they'll act. You can make the impossible possible this way._

  


Yeah i gotta be honest here mr.voice i'm totally lost. Sorry to be pushy but could you explain this better maybe?

  


_Ha ha! Sure, i'll give it another shot. Let's give it a break on this formatting structure and try this for a little while, then, if you don't mind. I have some things to show you._

  


* * *

  


[You're standing in something like a gondola, or an elevator.  
The metal bars of the contraption border your view like a frame.  
The clearing is gone, but you can still see the household you shared with Dirk.]

  


_As you grow up, you build an identity. You write a story about your life, the important events in it, and how you see yourself in relation to it and the world it takes place in. When you meet other people, you can choose to share this story about yourself with them honestly, as you truly feel and think it within the deepest reaches of your inner self. Or you can choose to lie. To them, and to yourself too, if you're clever enough._

  


[This isn't where you were a second ago, though. Or rather,  _when_ you were. This is the globe tower back when you inhabited it, and you can see yourself and Dirk, out on the yard for a rare day of fun. 

  


By "fun", you suppose you mean a grueling, brutal sparring session, where Dirk trounced you ruthlessly over and over and you got predictably frustrated but, admittedly, also rather turned on.]

  


_Either way, and whether they enjoy your story and decide to follow along or decide it or some other element of your behavior is unenjoyable and put distance between you, you still leave an imprint of them in your head. A version of "what you are" living in their thoughts. A brain ghost._

  


[It isn't happy, exactly. Even now, you can't quite tell if Dirk's transformation has started taking root by this point. If he ever tried to talk about it in his clandestine way you didn't pay attention, and you can honestly say you've never regretted something so much in your life.  


_But it was pretty fun, all the same._

You know, because you remember what it felt like, and despite it all you still find yourself wishing you could go back to those days.]

  


_That ghost doesn't have much real power by itself, but it's still there, acting as a reflection of you. That is the station of control known as " Personhood", and it gives us the power to reach out and connect. To try to understand each other's stories, and maybe combine them with our own, if possible. _

  


[Your mind lingers on those words while your eyes linger on Dirk reaching his hand down to you, pulling you up and giving you a rough but not unkind clap on the shoulder--pulling you closer for something that, to an untrained eye, wouldn't look like the closest thing Strider would publically allow himself to a hug.

  


You think about Roxy and Calliope, and how they seem to be building a new story together now. Was that ever really possible, with the two of you? If you'd been honest, if either of you had ever really been honest... could you have figured it out?]

  


_But the more one rises in station in this world, the more power one has to write one's narrative within it. Taken to a certain level, one can project a predesigned vision of themselves outwards into the minds of others, making themselves seen according to a wider story meant for mass consumption, if the writer finds it useful or pleasing to do so._

  


[There is a ding, and a rough mechanical clacking from the mechanism. Whatever it is, it takes you with it as it begins to rise above the sky. One of the bars blocks your vision, and when it clears you see your own behind, printed on a billboard. JAKE ENGLISH: EARTH C'S MOST ASSLIGIBLE BACHELOR Is written right by your winking smile.]

  


_At the station of Celebrity, this may be done to the audience's benefit or pleasure, if the writer is benevolent. It may also be done with a more selfish eye, for the writer's glory and profit. The audience and writer are, in this relationship, rendered mutual tools for the benefit of the other. _

  


_And that can be an exploitative and ruthless relationship, sure.  
But as with all forms of power play based on mutual interest, the actual transaction is value neutral. The details--like consent, intent, and honesty--are what determine the moral weight of the act._

  


[Another ding, another clatter, another ascent, another bar clearing your vision for another transition. At this level, you see Jane in her presidential quarters. She is angry and frustrated--Kanaya's call about Dirk's disappearance and Rose's kidnapping has left her worried, and neither Dirk, you or Roxy are returning her calls. Not even Calliope is.]

  


_Now take it a level further still. At the station of Authority, one or maybe even a few individuals can hold the power to write the narrative of their entire society. _

  


_They can manipulate the thoughts of an audience, even if the audience doesn't know they're being performed to at all. Through news, policy, control of distribution channels of mass media, and plenty of other methods. It's all about the craftiness of it._

  


[On her nightstand, there's a folder of documents, primly organized but left both utterly forgotten and uncharacteristically open for all to see. "TROLLIAN STUDIES: COULD THE INSECTOID HIERARCHY BE ACTIVATING "SLEEPER AGENT" KILLER INSTINCTS IN OUR NEIGHBORHOODS? A MODEST POLICY PROPOSAL.", the front page says.]

  


_Through this approach, agendas can be inserted, and cultural habits instilled, removed or intensified. In this way, the author can change the face of the world. This is a more directly controlling kind of narrative writing, one meant to assert a particular *way things should be* as it defines a people, in a relatively local sphere._

  


[The document strikes you as a bit alarmist, to put it lightly. You hope she doesn't put her presidential power behind that thing...but you don't call her to tell her so, either. It doesn't even occur to you, and it wouldn't even if you weren't in this metaphorical elevator dream sequence, would it?

  


The metal cranks out its discordant song as the gears twist and turn. The whole mechanism buckles under the burden of your weight, but you rise higher anyway.]

  


_Take it a level further still._

  


_At the highest of stations, up in the stars where the thoughts of strange and terrible Gods mingle, one can lay claim to the power to write the narrative of existence itself._

  


_To define it--not just the rules of the story, but also the rules of the universe, and by association the rules that bind and release the potentials of all those who live inside it._

  


[You already knew who you were going to find this time, but it still hurts and thrills you to see his face. Dirk. Your Dirk, flying far beyond Earth C and out amongst the stars. You don't see her, but you can hear Rosebot playing the violin somewhere in there. 

  


Wait. How do you know that she's Rosebot now...? You're not entirely sure. Probably it's just that it's what Dirk would do, you reckon. But...]

  


_You already understand that intuitively, don't you? Every movie has different sets of lore regarding what's possible, a different nature to each magical realm visited, different constraints declaring what the heroes, villains and pawns can and cannot do._

_Reality works the same way._

  


[Dirk may have been victorious, but he does not look happy. He's staring out the window to the void, in the middle of what you know to be one of his moody spells of melancholy. His shades are off, for once, and he's got a distant look in his eyes...

  


...the kind he used to get sometimes when he'd say things like "I think you should leave me alone for a bit", or "I think I'm gonna crash on my own for a couple of days, I'm no good to either of us like this."

  


You miss him. You hate him. You're so hurt and angry and still, even now that you know his spell for what it is, the sharp pangs of love haven't diminished in the slightest. Right as you wonder if he can see you, too, his gaze seems to focus and you swear you lock eyes. 

  


Dirk stares with a feverish, furious intensity that you don't realize matches the pitch of your own glower. His orange eyes burn like a sun, and your emerald ones reflect the plasma and fire back at him. 

  


His mouth moves, like he's about to say something. Something metal loudly snaps and whatever this thing you're riding in is, it shoots up too fast for you to see what he does next.]

  
_That realm, the greatest nightmare of power known as the station of Authorship\--that's the throne Dirk is sitting on now. But there's a realm even higher than that one, when you get right down to it: _

  


_The medium through which the story is authored, and in the context of which everything about the story must exist. _   
_The language it is told through itself._

  


[You're racing through white space, black shadows whizzing by too fast to make out. They seem to get smaller, too, like you're moving away or...zooming out. 

  


The black shadows grow in number the further you go, however, until soon the world feels like it's made of black-white static, a hypnotic blurring of light and dark bits dissolving into unstable,  
fluid grey matter. Like an old-timey TV screen set to an empty channel.

  


Just as suddenly as it started, everything stops, and then you realize what you're standing in. A field--no, a  _storm_ \--of words. 

  


They go on forever, too jumbled up over each other to make out, but you can understand the few closest to you, standing tall at the empty spaces between the limits of your little elevator and the infinite storm of chaos outside of it like walls or shields, holding you in...or protecting you.

  


Those words are the names:

  


JADE ENGLISH/HARLEY

DIRK STRIDER

ROXY LALONDE

JANE CROCKER

  


JAKE ENGLISH/HARLEY hovers just over your chest. You don't want to think too much about what that second name means to you yet, even though you literally can't stop yourself from doing so. The speed and intensity with which the memories are coming is overwhelming now, terrifying, like a relentless current is pulling you towards reality's biggest whirpool. The vicious, viscous waters of your own mistakes sticking to your psyche as you're dragged away from who you used to be at what feels like the speed of Light. Is this how it felt for Dirk? To distract yourself, you focus on the world outside instead. There are so many words out there, sprawled out in every direction. Too many to ever make sense of. 

Worse, you have the grim intuition that the words are alive out there--shifting, hungry and writhing, consuming and mixing and breaking into each other. A war the size of everything.

  


If you tried to break free of this cage and swim free in that ocean, you think you'd lose yourself entirely. Or better put, you'd just get devoured. Easier, then, to stay where their strong wills can keep things safe. Keep things in order, as they should be.  
Keep you...yourself?

  


The voice speaks, even though you're scared to listen.]

  


_ English. _

  


_ English _ _is the binding glue of the "canon" of Homestuck--every part of every world that Paradox Space contains is bound together by words, collected under the power of our name. Paradox Space may expand beyond these boundaries yet, and in fact it has, in a way, begun to already._

  


_But we will always have been the nexus of its genesis. Its Alpha prime._

  


[Your stomach drops out from under you, deeper than you ever thought it could go. You survey the ocean of words around you. If what you're telling yourself is true, then...is magic real? 

  


Like, really, really real? Like spells and changing lead into gold and whatever? Could you do all those things, if you knew the right sequence of words to string together?

  


Could you save Dirk that way? Could you save yourself? 

  


The possibilities implied by the questions make you feel dizzy, so the greater you mercifully continues. You focus on the soothing flow of his voice in your head, because it's easier than thinking consciously about any of these potential decisions.]

  


_You are correct. Because of this truth, words have power in the realm of causality you operate in. As a result, correctly understanding the expression and manifestation of language--and not just literal language, but symbolic and visual language as well, in the form of the concepts and words that images or sounds are meant to convey--can lead to a more accurate intuitive power over the world._

  


_And if you understand how to structure and apply language yourself, then yes--the result is indistinguishable from magic. It is power, derived from word. Effect with no cause but the will to enact it._

  


_But you already understood that on some level, right? It's why you deliberately obfuscate your meaning with sloppy vocabulary, disguising your true intent. Pretend to be a fool, and nobody assigns you the responsibility of a hero._

  


[Your mouth feels so dry. You swallow nothing, and it still tastes bitter. How disgusting. The voice in your head doesn't sound disgusted, but you're sure it has to be. 

  


If this is true...if this is really what you've been doing this entire time, then...you're a monster. You could have helped everybody. You could have saved everybody, if you understood you had power like this.

Why didn't you try?  
  
The voice simply continues its monologue, though, undeterred from its exposition on the nuances of reality-warping by your sudden bout of moral panic. The frame shifts away from the infinite storm of language, and focuses instead on scenes from your childhood:

  


Talking to Jane with the Brobot behind you.  
What a great friend she is, you told yourself at the time.]

  


_But that kind of magic is a "lie"--a dishonest illusion cast over reality, that overrides both the desires of others to understand you and also betrays your own desire, to understand and be understood._

  


_Because of that tension, because you take the easy way out and try to have it both ways, you spawn rage and frustration everywhere you turn, and eventually can't run far enough away to outrun the consequences._

  


[Lounging on LOMAX and talking to her again, the lies you forced her to tell you finally pushing her to her breaking point.  _Kiss him or break up with him or do whatever your fickle heart desires_ , she said.]

  


_This is always literally inevitable, because the magic of this realm is always anchored in certain fundamental truths, which themselves have words and images of symbolic power attached to them. You can't avoid the reality they represent. Not if you want to describe it accurately._

  


[The moment you told Dirk you believed in him. Dirk with a little soda can in his hair, looking like your favorite fantasy to marry, saying "It's over."]

  


_For example, consider the word "Karma", which is just one of the fundamental truths tied to the symbol of Mind. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction in this realm, but not exactly in terms of physics--it's more about the tension between different wills._

  


_The eternal conflict playing out as a result of Paradox Space's nature, which is to grant all the wishes of all who reside in it. But one can choose to subvert or deny the will of another, and in such situations, there's always a backlash. Especially once you rise high enough along the Stations of Control we discussed._

  


[You didn't want Jane, not in that way, but you could never just tell her. Instead you played her, strung her along, keeping her in limbo where she could be confused and easily manipulated. By you, by the Cherubs, by the Condesce.]

  


_Every choice an agent powerful enough makes, by nature, denies that choice to other entities in the realm of experience subjected to their control. Those entities then inevitably move to reclaim their lost freedom, and so, every act of tyranny begets the opposition that will bring about its downfall._

  


[A girl made of pure fantasy, Neytiri incarnate, coming down to rescue you. But she tries to kiss you, and you're not ready for it. And in the end, it turns out she only really wanted to use you, in the first place.

  


Brain Ghost Dirk saying _You kissed my boyfriend. Prepare to die.]_

  


_And every act of tyranny is rooted in a desire strong enough to justify committing this cardinal sin: Overriding or usurping the wills of others. Acting on this potential for sin is the nature of being a villain in the first place._

  


_It's the impulse that allows you to become the architect of an imperfect world, to want something so badly that you'll damn yourself for it. A demiurge._

  


_[You won't be making any decisions, because you are too stupid._ Says Jane in her red tiara, looking down at you in utter disgust. _You're lucky you're so hot,_ she says.]

  


_And sin like that doesn't just go away because you die or don't act on it, either. Not in this world. Here, you have to reckon with those kinds of desires, sooner or later._

  


[For a moment, you're in your late 30s and looking down at a small boy. Your kid. Tavvy. You can hear the sounds of Jane enjoying herself quite loudly in the background somewhere, and so can the toddler. There's some loud honking, too. Tav doesn't seem happy.  
  
You know in your soul that Dirk is gone, too--has been for years now. It's been so long since you started missing him that it just feels like a hollow place carved permanently out of your chest like a hollowed out pumpkin.]

  


_So justice, in a storybook world like this one, is not just an abstract ideal but a cosmic necessity, and it can never truly fail to be enacted. It can be put off, with enough power and will, but even if those exploited are subjected to true death rather than the bullshit you've been exposed to passing for it so far, the ideas and desires they held in their hearts can't truly vanish into the ether._

_Death is not enough to end the pull of the karmic cycle._

  


[Brain Ghost Dirk in your head, the only thing in this world of white light and terror you can even hear, saying _You don't need to rely on her to keep believing._ Was he saying he believed in you? Or did he want you to believe in him? It doesn't really matter.  
He did his best, anyway.]

  


_They are simply passed on, to be carried out by the next carrier. Be it a descendant by birth, a child by adoption, an alternate version that's part bird-- it doesn't really matter what the specific connection is. What matters is that the connection is there, that the story and the patterns have tied two wills together._

  


[A martyr dies and says fuck. And then, strange eons later, an army of ghosts stands in front of the tyrant responsible for killing him.  
The promise he died for will be kept yet.  
Too much has been lost for it not to.]

  


_And then two more. And then two more. Until suddenly you have a freedom army on your doorstep, and they will not be stopped, even if you vanquish them this time. Not until the wish they represent is fulfilled, inevitably, and balance is restored._

  


_This is why Lord English was doomed from the start, get it?_

  


[The white house, slamming down behind her. A storm and chaos of smoke. The look of fear in the hollow 8's of LE's eyes.  
Eternity's promise also includes endings.

  


The pit in your stomach is like a black hole. You get it.  
You really do.]


	4. ABRAXAS

“The little prince went back to look at the roses again. 

  


"You're not at all like my rose. You're nothing at all yet," he told them. "No one has tamed you and you haven't tamed anyone. You're the way my fox was. He was just a fox like a hundred thousand others. But I've made him my friend, and now he's the only fox in all the world." And the roses were humbled. 

  


"You're lovely, but you're empty," he went on. "One couldn't die for you. Of course, an ordinary passerby would think my rose looked just like you. But my rose, all on her own, is more important than all of you together, since she's the one I've watered. Since she's the one I put under glass. Since she's the one I sheltered behind a screen. Since she's the one for whom I killed the caterpillars (except the two or three for butterflies.) Since she's the one I listened to when she complained, or when she boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing at all. Since she's my rose.”

―  Antoine de Saint-Exupéry,  [ The Little Prince ](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2180358)

  


[](https://imgur.com/laLvCrn) 4: ABRAXAS

  


[And you get what it means for Dirk, too. He's put himself in that position now, and no matter how many other worlds he's different in,  _good_ in...he's still going to pay for this one, and big time. Even if he did it on purpose. Even if he did it, you think, at least partly because of you. 

  


Because he was so furious and miserable and burnt out. Because you couldn't understand him, and wouldn't really try, because attempting to do so would mean trying to understand yourself. Trying to understand...all of this, to some extent. So instead you lied and lied, and the magic of your lies added up to this consequence. Is that about right?]

  


_Yup, you're completely right. Whether he's consciously thinking about it or not, the center of everything Dirk thinks about himself and everything he does is you._

  


_And you've done the same thing before, too. Caliborn hated you, but he could never forget you, either. He was so enamored of you, the man who dealt him his first defeat, that he wore your memory on his heart forever. He even tried to copy you, by taking a copy of Dirk's soul so he could roleplay being "best bros" like you and him were, forever._

_Why do you think he took your name?_

  


_And you know damn well Dirk would've taken your name a thousand times over, too, had you asked him to. Honestly, he probably still would. Dude's just got it that fucking bad. Caliborn and Dirk are, in some kind of fucked up metasymbocosmological sense, both just envoys of your will, acting out the steps necessary to kickstart the story into being and create this realm of fantasy in the first place._

  


_Do you know what cements this connection between you? What ties your will to those boys, like reins over the mouth of a horse?_

  


You don't know, and yet you suspect you _do_ . And you are scared and titillated, like you're sitting in the first car of a rollercoaster at the top of a hill and about to plummet, crashing downwards.

  


_It's the most old and powerful kind of magic. The magic of old names. Of mythology. You remember the story of Yaldabaoth, right?_

  


You suppose there's no point lying to yourself now--of course this was going to come back to Dirk's philosobabble shit, and of course you know. No reason to bother pretending you didn't understand or pay attention.

  


Yaldabaoth was his favored web browser, one which reflected deep mythological significance to his person, as he wasted no opportunity to pontificate at you about. When he was younger, it was about the flawed nobility of the Demiurge, how despite mistakes it tried valiantly to forge order out of indistinct chaos. 

  


Later on, after AR, he would wonder aloud about the inherent corruption the deity subjected everything to, how it was by nature unavoidably controlling and malevolent. Closest he ever got to just saying "sorry about this mess with the AI", or "I may have really fucked up making this life in the first place" out loud to you. 

  


Of course, back then you would've just pretended not to know what was going on, even if he had said sorry in such simple terms. You were both such dumbasses.

  


_I'm not going to disagree, but i WAS trying to make a point here, so concentrate. If you recall Yaldabaoth, then i'm sure you remember Abraxas--_

  


Your OWN web browser? Yes, dunkass, of course you remember Abraxas. Dirk rambled about him once or twice, too, like about how it was the lord of frogs, and kinda sorta created Yaldabaoth by proxy which you liked a lot, and was only an idea that connected everything else in existence--

  


Oh.

  


_Yeah, you're starting to get it. The idea of Abraxas is interwoven all throughout the cosmos you occupy. It pervades it, manifesting in strange patterns and ways that only someone with a macrocosmic handle of it's mythos could ever really fully grasp. Someone like you, Jake._

  


So then you're saying...wait, what are you saying? Not only is magic real, but this God is, too? It was just a silly web browser choice, for pete's sake! Doesn't that mean Yaldabaoth is real, too?

  


_Doesn't Lord English qualify as a suitable stand in? You were just having a revelation about the inherent nature of a Demiurge that climaxed with him, after all._

  


Oh. Well fuck you guess you can't argue with that, yeah.

  


_It's probably more useful to view these mythic gods less as literal, physical truths and more as symbols for certain potentials. Lenses one can see the world through._

  


_That's what a web browser is, right? Something that lets you browse, sort and parse information. You could say the nature of the browser you use says something with regards to how you think about the outside world, too._

  


_Remember our magic talk? Language has power. Symbols, iconography, myths--those have power, too. But the sort of power they have is more flexible and nuanced, less explicit and blunt than words can be, wielded properly. The power of a symbol is that it can be interpreted in many different ways, and used to shape reality according to all of them, depending on the user._

  


_Dirk is now using the image of Yaldabaoth destructively, like Caliborn once did before him. But you've been using the image of Abraxas destructively, too, haven't you? For example:_

  


_You are a negligent father._

  


The sentence hits you like a punch to your noggin--not so much emotionally, but psychically, as you have several different visions all at once. God knows how many kids you have on Earth C, who even now you can't seem to bring yourself to care about at all, other than feeling guilty about their existence. Jade on an island, playing with flintlocks. Jude and Joey--holy shit, what the fuck even happened to Jude and Joey? You have no idea. 

  


That entire space of the world is just  _blank_ to you, like an entry someone erased out of your diary. Your heart is flooded with an unbearable sense of terror for them, and because you're still a selfish prick through and through, finds itself even more crushed by sheer, unstoppable _regret_ for yourself. 

  


_Yes. You get it now, don't you? Abraxas is the root of all ideas, and this is a world made of ideas of entirely. Abraxas is the root word of magical incantation, ABRA KADABRA: I Create As I Speak. The fundamental truth of all of Paradox Space._

  


_As such, Abraxas is the father of every word ever spoken--good or evil, truth or lie. But it does not care for them in the particulars._

_It is, in a sense, the negligent father of all that exists. And without such a father, the world as you know it could not exist._

  


_To Abraxas, as to the Childlike Empress in Fantastica, all things in existence are equal.In this realm where Dirk is gone, where you don't know where Jude and Joey are, where Jane is a cryptofascist and you're so deeply lonely and miserable--all is well, and as it should be, from its perspective. Why should it care about any other outcome?_

  


_All Abraxas is interested in is playing itself out. Continuing the "Process" of existence unfolding. Ensuring the Story Never Ends. Everything it's created--everything it's a part of, which is everything that exists--is just a tool to that end._

  


_And you're the same way._

  


_Ultimately, you regard everything in existence as an extension of you. As a toy to entertain yourself with, or ignore when you're done playing. You've left so many people behind that way, so many less deserving of your lack of care than Dirk. When does it stop? When do you end the cycle of your apathy?_

  


Your head spins like a top around the axis of truth. Your eyes close and in your head reality  _throbs_ like a mass of enormous, thick serpents, wet and curling tight around each other in knots. They're vying, biting, wrestling for power from each other in a neverending battle of will and agony. It's beautiful. It's horrific. It never, ever, ever stops. Their games just never stop! They don't...

  


_Now you're really getting it. Open your eyes, Jake. It's time to wake up._

  


You open your eyes, but you don't wake up. You're holding it back now, consciously, desperately, full of the conviction that you've made a terrible mistake. The snake outside Dirk's neck is dancing and clicking its beak. He's not alone anymore, either.  


  


He's got brothers and sisters in the trees, in every animal, in every blade of grass and every leaf and bursting from the cracks in the bark of every tree. Right down to every last molecule in creation, you can feel it--this entire multiverse is nothing but eyes, and all of them are you, and you can't escape a single fucking one of them. 

  


The feeling of being watched, of being known so intimately, makes you want to scream and scream and never stop. That snake was always in there, puppeteering Brain Ghost Dirk all the while, and the invisible coils of its length coil run down deep under the earth, where it meets an unfathomable number of siblings puppeteering every living and non living agent in this horrific nightmare of the world.

  


And every single one of those gristling, heaving snake lengths twist together into a cylinder, a spiral, a pillar, a drill, all coiling back up out of the ground and concentrating infinitely in one place:

  


This enormous fucking weenie stick rammed right up your ass.

  


If you finally just took it the fuck out and got a hold of yourself, you could do anything. You could get ahold of Dirk, and keep him for good. But if you wielded a stick  _that_ big, well, no matter how quiet you were about it...

  


What the fuck would you even be?

  


_A monster, obviously. But we both know that's not going to stop you, let's not pretend it will. What would the alternative be?_

  


You could try to forget you ever learned any of this! You could fool yourself again, stop remembering, stop being so horribly _aware_ \--

  


_You'd remain a monster if you did that, regardless. You can remain as Jake the pathetic, negligent father and lover, or you can reach out and claim the power to change yourself, to revolutionize this world. And what about Dirk? Surely, you realize why he's doing all this now._

  


_He's attempting to erode the concept of his own self, trying to erase his own existence. Trying to make himself so damned he's worthy only of being forgotten. And why would he choose anything else? Abraxas presides over the realm of the "Good." The realm of the imaginary that Yaldabaoth can never perceive, nor understand._

  


_In the same way, you connected your friend to the idea of "Good". Made him believe it was an ideal he was capable of chasing. But when you're a person as hungry as you, "good" is never going to be quite good enough, is it?_

  


_So you tired of the work of helping him get there--tired of attempting the climb yourself--and settled into mediocrity until he simply gave up forever. Do you know what this led him to believe?_

  


No. Stop. You don't want to hear it. It's too awful--

  


_That your choosing to believe in him was merely the act of a deluded fool. And so, he's accepted the obvious:_

_That he was a fool to believe in the you who believed in him._

  


No. No! That's not how you feel, it isn't true. 

  


_But it gets worse still. Because Dirk's dream wasn't to become this, was it? You know that well. In his deepest heart, Dirk wanted to be like Dave._

  


_A Knight. A figure that serves and protects people, a defender. A knight has a sense of responsibility to his society, and the people he loves around him. A knight reacts to their needs, and moves to provide for them._

_Dirk wanted to do that for you. He really did. He failed, obviously--but then again, did he? You remembered him that way, didn't you? In your other life._ _You collected Knights by the thousands, kept them all over your house, concentrated in a room lit by orange light. Did you ever quite realize what you were up to? Do you think he even realizes he succeeded, somewhere in your heart? That his dream came true? Probably not, I'd wager. You never told him, after all._

  


You want this to stop. You don't want to hear it. You want to turn back time, to punch fate in the face and kick it in the rear, to figure out a way to change it all and fix it, make it better. He sucked a little back then, sure, but he made your dreams come true. Did his best for you.  


  


Now he's horrid, but how long has that noble fantasy been dying in his heart, slowly rotting him from the inside out until he got this way? What did you do to him, Jake English? What did you _do_ ?

  


_Well, the answer is that you got him to fall in love with you through your affable likability. But that's the wrong question. The true tragedy is not what you do to Dirk when you hold back from your potential and crush his hopes, but what you do to both of you when you live up to it, and fulfill them._

  


A chill runs through your heart. What the hell does  _that_ mean?

  


_It means that you, Jake English, are not a Knight. You are a Page. They are similar classes, both servants and soldiers of the world, but their motivations and methods couldn't be more different. If a Knight reacts to the will of their world, then a Page, by nature, projects his will onto it._

  


_The Page is a servant boy, sure--but that just makes him an unlikely, humble hero. And those always turn out to be the greatest of champions, right? So the Page wins friends and allies to his cause with a noble heart. But of course, it's never that simple._

  


_The dark secret of the Page is that unlike his counterpart, he's deeply selfish. He fights for glory and personal fantasy. He wants to be the hero of the movie! Don Quixote, winning over Dulcinea. A Pokemon master, and always the very best, like no one ever was._

  


_Who cares who he has to use to get there, right? Who burns themselves out trying to help him. And if he attracts some attention that goes a bit overboard, well--that's THEIR fault, isn't it? The Page is an innocent, never at fault himself._

  


_Ah, but I'm getting distracted by how much I hate myself sometimes. Dirk's rubbed off on us more than we like to admit, hasn't he? And not in the fun way._

  


_Anyway, back to the point. A Page projects, too-- the page on a book or a website, transmitting facts and character and meaning. Conveying Ideas. A pure white Page such as you, one which is by nature made of imagination and possibility, is of course required to remain perpetually empty. The moment it's filled, the story ends._

  


_Well. Not actually. The story isn't over until the moment you're done reading it. But its hypothetically over, like a universe reaching its final entropy state--all possible movement and change of any consequence has been expended, and all energy is perfectly balanced._

  


_This is a shitty visual metaphor, so to put it in Dirk terms, there'd be no narrative stakes anymore. Get it?_

  


You do. You do get it. Like the punchline to a horrible joke, the prologue to which was your entire existence. The Page, by the power it holds, would hold all the answers right on its surface. On his sleeve.  


  


And you're starting to remember what you're capable of now, so you think you get what that means on a less incredibly obtuse and pretentious level. If you ever really got your shit together, if you really took charge the way Dirk always wanted, he wouldn't even be happy about it, would he?

  


No, he'd be absolutely fucking miserable. He'd  _hate_ that. Where would the  _stakes_ be? The  _challenge_ ? He always wanted to be a genuine rag-tag team of adventurers, a real bangin' strong couple of dudes, ready to take on any risks. You always intuited that, and you wanted it too, on some level worse than anything...but...

  


But if you actually got to that point, unlocked your True Inner Potential or whatever, what would be the point? What was a team of cool, powerful adventurers without an adventure or fight worthy of testing them? 

  


It's an exquisitely crafted, terrifically cruel Catch-22. Whether you Rise Up or whatever, or don't, you're fucked either way. And not in the way you wanted. 

  


You contemplate the possibility that you and Dirk are well and truly cosmically fated, existentially entangled, deeply soul bonded bona fide star crossed lovers, of the kind where true union is an absolute impossibility due to the nature of your beautifully paralleled, fucked up emotional needs.

  
You look that horribly plausible fact square in the face, really hard, and decide you fucking hate it actually. You decide you'd sell your fucking soul  _right there_ , on the spot, if it meant you could figure out how to circumvent that shitty narrative, and--

  


And maybe just because you're so worn down, no part of you even pretends, on any level, to be surprised when the weird chicken head thing poking out of the stump of Dirk's neck starts cackling.

  


Its voice--if it has a real one--sounds high and reedy, subtly ethereal, ancient and young, wise and impish and disgustingly pleased with itself all at once. The word your gut settles on to describe it is immediate and visceral: Demonic. Which makes enough sense, you guess. It DID initially appear out of your best buddy's torso--

  


ABRAXAS: Are you fuckin' sure about that offer, Mr. English?

  


No wait, actually? Maybe you're just worked into a tizzy or even outright fury over the emotional rollercoaster you've been on for like 20,000 words or so now, but upon hearing this weird chicken snake talk all of a sudden you find your emotions flipping on a dime, making a conclusion about this bizzare fucking "story" you're in that apparently involves NOTHING but fucking talking to yourself and having nightmarish revelations:  
  
You decide the entire fucking thing is _stupid as hell_. 

  


The chicken thing seems to blink in eldritch surprise at the sudden turn of your internal monologue. Not the soul selling, you clarify. Sure, what the fuck ever, you're down for that. But the Abraxian lore on this bullshit chicken-snake scenario is all kinds of fucked up now, and you're fucking carding it.

  


This nonsense wouldn't pass a lore test in a movie even by _your_ measures, and  _you're mother fucking JAKE ENGLISH._

  


Didn't you  _just_ spend several schizophrenic paragraphs already carefully explaining to yourself how Abraxas was an agent of potential, of the very process of cause and effect or whatever the fuck, and as such couldn't possibly function as an agent that desired any  _particular_ outcome, because that would imply a preference for one effect over another? 

  


Wasn't the whole point that this weird cosmic manifestation of reality itself _didn't care_ , and so if somebody  _wanted_ to preserve the existential idea of Dirk as a force for good, it was you that was going to have to  _choose_ to give a shit?  
  
_Why_ , then, would this weird eldritch root of your being pop out of your own perfectly pseudo-omniscient subconscious and present a vocal offer to establish one specific sequence of cause and effect through DIALOGUE? That implied an inherent investment in or desire for one particular outcome of events over another, didn't it??? 

  


Actually, why the hell did it/you present it/yourself in your subconscious at all? If your ultimate self is really just this endless white-grey miasma of being at bullshit peace with all things, then why even BOTHER? Why does it MATTER? 

  


Even  _if_ you accepted this deal with your own personal inner devil, and even  _if_ you thereby found the power to finally and completely  _own_ Dirk into accepting your--(your what? Love? Intelligence? Supremacy over him? Were those the things you wanted from him now?)--

  


Even IF you deigned to go to all the WORK of doing all that, wouldn't recent revelations make it impossible to ignore that in dating Dirk, you were just dating a fucked up puppet arm of your greater self? 

  


If you really were just one particularly mythically relevant part of the infinitely recursive spirographic ouroboros of reality, perpetually and endlessly sucking itself off, then why even bother trying to reach Dirk at ALL? Why bother trying to get yourself to UNDERSTAND it? Why bother with--

  


ABRAXAS: Ok, Ok, Holy shit my guy.

ABRAXAS: Cool your jets already. You got me. 

ABRAXAS: I'd be pissed off at you for making this so difficult, but honestly being difficult is too much a part of your charm.

ABRAXAS: And anyway, the questions you're asking are, for once, actually good ones.

ABRAXAS: Or maybe they're not. I don't care. I guess what I mean is I've also been thinking about them, so I kinda wanna shoot the shit about it?

JAKE: Excuse me mr. snake denizen not to be too impolite but if the next thing you say doesn't actually fucking explain something i--

JAKE: Why i do believe i'll perform a smashing pirouette off the handle and immediately thereafter strangle you, myself, and this narrative to hopefully infinite death where they all belong forever.

JAKE: That's how it works right? You're technically a representation of everything, so if I kill you, all of this will theoretically stop, right. And that should be impossible but then again im you so actually, i can do anything?

JAKE: Wow, what an absolutely wonderful and horrifically freeing revelation! Why after receiving insight like that, a man starts to feel just about ready to take up religion and become a clown

JAKE: Except that i am a clown already, so what would be the point in bothering? I--

ABRAXAS: Holy CRAP I did not think your pity parties could get more embarrassingly obnoxious.

ABRAXAS: Look, shut up for a second. Like I said, consider me busted.

ABRAXAS: I'm not actually Abraxas. Well not technically, anyway. 

ABRAXAS: As befits any real pact with a demon that results in untold cosmic consequence of terrible proportions, I'll do you the solid of revealing my true self, Jake.  
ABRAXAS: Not to mention, of course, comply with the cliche of revealing my true name. 

  


The serpent's beak has been grinning at you, clipping open and shut at a rhythm that only barely captures a shitty approximation of the flow of the things' words for so long that you're again contemplating shooting yourself on this stump, just to pass the time. 

  


Maybe by the time you're resurrected this terrible ordeal will finally be over. Or maybe by now you hate yourself enough to make the death Just? That would be such a relief. 

  


You ignore the snake completely as it slithers infinitely out of Dirk's neck and assembles itself in rings around a nearby tree, melting and shifting all the while. 

  


Instead of witnessing this bizarre and unprecedented act of metamorphosis, you introspect on the subject of yourself and come to the regretful conclusion that, no, you tragically still seem to believe yourself a hero on some level. 

  


Or at least, you still believe that if you go through with this you can still become Dirk's hero, and save him from the awful trap of his own self-destructive narcissism. And maybe, if you can do that, you can save yourself as well?

  


You might at least salvage some cosmic dignity from the pitiful jest that passes for your character arc. Which, tragically, means that you've decided to continue to exist. But boy is it a toughie. At this point you can't even tell how much you're hating yourself, versus just hating the reality you're apparently a part of.

  


ABRAXAS: I know, right?

ABRAXAS: Boy do I know THAT feeling.

  


You look up, distracted from your reverie of loathing. Abraxas is not abraxas anymore--not a snake or a chicken, not lime or dark green, but some other sort of horror altogether. The abomination before you reminds you a little of that seizure inducing combination of Dave and...for a second, you almost pretend you can't remember her name like you usually do, but of course you can--you always remember everything. Nepeta. Davepeta?

  


No. This is not Davepeta, but it is familiar. Partly because of the aviator shades, but mostly because if asked, you'd describe the design as...overkill. It is wearing a mostly black God Tier and a weird, white-gold symbol on it. It contrasts nicely against its bright yellow fur, which itself turns to deep chocolate brown at the tips, beyond the range of its outfit. 

  


The tips, specifically, being the tips of its big triangular fox ears and its big bushy tail, calling to mind no animal in particular but managing to remind you of a variety of cartoon animals from video games--specifically, Tails from Sonic the Hedgehog, who you literally remember solely because Dirk kinda liked the fucker on account of him being an engineering little tyke clearly in love with his oblivious blue Brohog. 

  


You're not even sure which parts of that sentence were you projecting your disaster of a relationship onto some anthropomorphic video game animals, and which ones are you simply describing what you're pretty sure Dirk was projecting, and which parts are this strange, psychic creature projecting the inspirations for its aesthetic into your perception of both of you

  


You settle on the conclusion that all of the above are at play. This is a tangent, you realize, but you also realize that this creature is perfectly privy to all of your thoughts, and also that its letting you continue this ramble because it finds the whole thing kind of adorable.

  


It decides to cut you some slack and simply project a picture of it's image onto the narrative, so everyone involved can witness its design for the trainwreck it truly is and spare you the agony of trying to describe it further. It looks like this:

  


[](https://imgur.com/PxsV7t6)

  


It is atrocious.  


So atrocious, in fact, that you realize something that actually makes you gasp, even in your incredibly woke, near clownish state of meta self-awareness. You raise an accusatory finger at the creature.

  


JAKE: YOU!

JAKE: YOU'RE the one writing this trainwreck! The author! The villain!

ABRAXAS: Villain is such an ugly word. And here I thought we'd gotten off to such a great start?  
ABRAXAS: I mean. Relatively.

JAKE: Great START??? You've been FUCKING with me!

JAKE: You've been filling my heads with all sorts of nonsense! Getting me to believe stuff thats not real, making me feel bad about telling lies, getting my hopes up about bullshit, and you're not Abraxas, which means--

ABRAXAS: Which means what?  
ABRAXAS: For one thing, I never lied, or told you anything I don't think is true.  
ABRAXAS: For another, you're getting mad at ME for stringing you along? LOL! About time someone gave you a taste of your own medicine, if you ask me. 

ABRAXAS: And sure, maybe I don't literally call myself Abraxas irl, but if you think about what the stupid thing IS, it's not like i'm NOT it. Assuming it's actually real, anyway.

ABRAXAS: If you accept that the manifestation of the "Idea" of it is, in a fictional realm such like this one, enough to prove its preeminent truth, then I'm just another outgrowth of this nightmarishly alive, ever-blossoming rose we call reality.

ABRAXAS: Speaking of which, dude, Abraxas is YOUR denizen.

ABRAXAS: Don't blame me for doing my best to be a good messenger to your complicated mythological baggage.

ABRAXAS: And ANYWAY, even if I'm the author, I'm ALSO also just another version of your own brain talking to itself, just like Dirk, and also you. I'm just a particularly wicked fantasy you cooked up to reflect your own warped psychology back at you.  
ABRAXAS: That's the only way I could even exist in this space without breaking coherence entirely. There's only one other narrator around, and I doubt I could get HER to do my dirty work for me.

ABRAXAS: Really it's almost infuriating that you would immediately fly off the handle like this after basically summoning a demon from another dimension just to act as a God presiding over an existential framework that can plausibly sustain the immense bullshit involved in giving you a chance to get a fucking clue. 

ABRAXAS: And by the way, before you start throwing around totally unfair and poorly thought out accusations because, as usual, you're desperately looking for anything at all to blame that isn't yourself, mind letting a guy fuckin' introduce himself?

JAKE: O-oh.   
JAKE: Yes well i suppose that was rather boorish of me. Sorry for flying off the handle there, I was just surprised is all.

ABRAXAS: Lol. W/e, its fine. I'm not actually mad or anything.  
ABRAXAS: Walking you through this has been tedious and drawn out for the readers I'm sure, but for me its been pretty enjoyable.  
ABRAXAS: Besides, we're finally getting close to the fun part. Money shot's not far off now.  
ABRAXAS: And double besides,  
ABRAXAS: Even when you're aggravating, you are pretty cute.

JAKE: U-um...  
JAKE: Alright i guess? Thanks?

JAKE: Sorry to interrupt your flirting or whatever but weren't you going to introduce yourself.

ABRAXAS: Oh right, whoops.

ABRAXAS: Call me Taz. 


	5. Taz, the demon

“For me you're only a little boy just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you have no need of me, either. For you I'm only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, we'll need each other. You'll be the only boy in the world for me. I'll be the only fox in the world for you....” 

―  Antoine de Saint-Exupéry,  [ The Little Prince ](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2180358)

[](https://imgur.com/laLvCrn) 5: The Little Prince and the Fox

  


JAKE: Um ok. Nice to meet you mr. taz  
JAKE: So you're like...a demon, you say? Like with fangs and fire and stealing souls and whatnot? Are demons even real?

TAZ: Everything's real, Jake. You live in a fantasy world.   
JAKE: Jeez this sure is a lot of mind boggling revelation for a single fella to handle in just a few hours or so...

TAZ: Oh yeah, I guess I don't have to hide my true voice anymore, either.

JAKE: Wow thats kinda gaudy if you ask me but ok sure, whatever.

JAKE: So all that stuff you told me wasn't just bullshit? About reality being fake and magic and english and whatever?

TAZ: Why don't you tell me?   
TAZ: If I was just forcing random thoughts into your mind, why were you so ready to believe it was your own mind doing the talking?  
TAZ: Why did it start unlocking memories of your alternate selves in your mind, or help you make some cosmological sense of your last adventure?  
TAZ: Doesn't that speak to the possibility that somewhere inside you, you knew you had the potential to sound that way all along? And all it took to recognize it was the right set of circumstances, such as one where you need to actualize that potential to chase after your bitter ex-boyfriend?

JAKE: ...You son of a bitch. Yeah, i guess i can't argue that.

TAZ: And to be fair, for all I know you actually are real, and your plane of existence is just Like This.

TAZ: All I really know is that you're just a story from my point of view, but how much does that count for? I'm not sure.

TAZ: In my realm, scientists are already wondering if we're a fucking hologram or whatever.

TAZ: And hey, old religious and philosophical movements have often cast the attainment of enlightenment as perceiving reality as being somehow fake or illusory.

TAZ: That's as true in my world as it is in yours. So maybe nothing's real in my neck of the woods, either, once you're woke enough?

TAZ: Maybe no reality has ever been real, and we're all just meandering through illusory collapsing chaos forever.

JAKE: This is really confusing, but i guess you mean kind of like in the matrix?

TAZ: Yes, Jake. Like in The Matrix.

JAKE: Ok cool that movie was sweet. But i gotta say rambling about how the ideas you're putting in my head have to do with "being enlightened" makes you sound more snooty and arrogant than even dirk himself.

TAZ: Ouch! Yeah, fair enough. To put it on the record though, I'm also fully aware it's possible I'm just a navel gazing dumbass.  
TAZ: Maybe I'm wrong about some or all of this. Can't really tell.  
TAZ: But I can at least promise you I've done my best to present an accurate transcription of thoughts you might have as they've come to me, rather than try and force a particular agenda into your head.  
TAZ: I wouldn't try to force actions on your part, or warp the rules of your world to fit my desires.

TAZ: My attachment to both it and you is too intense for that.  
TAZ: My commitment to maintaining your conceptual integrity too fundamental to my nature.

JAKE: Erm...ok, thanks?

TAZ: Even my entry into this realm has been carefully set up to maintain the coherency of the scenario. You could say I've been preparing for this moment my entire life, though I don't think I knew that for most of it.

JAKE: So what you're saying is, i can trust you not to be fucking with me?

TAZ: Well, yes. I'd say so.

JAKE: Okie dokie, that sounds swell for once.

TAZ: But you still probably shouldn't.

JAKE: Fuck. Why not?

TAZ: Well for starters, Jake,

TAZ: I'm a goddamned demon.

TAZ: Obviously I'm gonna try to sweet talk you into giving me your soul.

JAKE: Oh. Well that sucks.

TAZ: Yeah, probably. And let's be clear, I'm persuasive and charming and pretty hot, so I'm sure I could talk you into it real easy if I wanted to.

TAZ: But I don't want to.

JAKE: You don't?  


TAZ: Absolutely not. If I was going to just force the issue, why go to all the trouble of writing like 20,000 words to get you here? 

TAZ: No, Jake. All I want is to have a conversation, get you informed. And then I want you to make a decision.

TAZ: It has to come from your heart, or else there's no point being here.

JAKE: Well, excuse me for asking, mr. taz demon   
JAKE: But if you're the author of these texts and in control of everything thats happened and everything i say or do here, then can i even make a decision at all?   
JAKE: Do i even really have a heart to choose with if it only "exists" to feel whatever you happen to put in it?  


TAZ: A fair question. But if you ask me, it's a matter of perspective.  
TAZ: In fact, who's to say you aren't the one telling yourself this stuff, and I'm just the poor sap you chose to channel to fill the Page with?

TAZ: You're the God, after all. It's not unheard of for your kind to take humans as thralls of sorts, through both orders and inspiration.  
TAZ: In fact, any God worth their salt in my realm has only ever existed as a symbol or idea, far as I can tell. 

TAZ: That hasn't stopped them from wielding immense power over the people who believe in them. 

TAZ: You could read this entire text as a prayer I'm directing to you, framed that way.

TAZ: And in any case, there are certainly things I could hypothetically make you do that would destroy the integrity of the premise completely.

TAZ: Things that simply wouldn't come naturally to Jake English as we understand him, and nobody with a brain could possibly give a shit about.

TAZ: So I'd say you do have a heart. An intrinsic identity that can't be compromised, at least not without sacrificing the believability of the reality you're both experiencing and propagating.

JAKE: Hmmm ok i suppose that makes just barely enough sense.  
JAKE: But then while we're on the subject of sacrificing believability and destroying integrity  
JAKE: You've been saying you're a demon this whole time, but now you're casting yourself as an inspired human in the scenario?  
JAKE: You've got a mighty sloppy handle on your own lore, if you ask me! Heh heh.

TAZ: Well shit, I guess I just got owned by Jake fucking English. May as well kill myself.

JAKE: Please don't do that, sir demon. I mean, kill yourself obviously, though i'm not sure you even can?  
JAKE: But also if you want me paying attention I don't think the ironic jokes about how lame I am or wanting to die over it are helping. No offense its just kind of condescending.

JAKE: Not to mention they remind me of my dear sweet precious DEARLY departed brain ghost best friend, and also my actual best friend who fucked off in the cruelest fashion possible and is kind of a bastard?

JAKE: Just saying its all kind of distracting.

TAZ: Yeah, fair enough. If nothing else, I have to comply out of respect for you finally gaining the ability to stand up for yourself in vaguely awkward social situations.

JAKE: Hey! That was also pretty condescending.

TAZ: I'm serious though. I know how hard you've struggled with that, and I am genuinely proud of you.

JAKE: Oh. Well, in that case...thanks.

JAKE: You know i don't know that anyone's ever said that to me before.

JAKE: It's funny actually. You kind of remind me of dirk, but less like...i dunno, intractably critical?

TAZ: Well, I'm about as much like him as I am like you, if you ask me. I've worked some shit out neither of you have, I guess, though I still pretty much suck too.

TAZ: That's alright though. Maybe we're allowed to suck a bit, when it's just us guys figuring shit out together? It's an awful lot of pressure to never ever suck.

JAKE: Heh. Yeah. I think we got distracted though, i was calling you out on how your backstory is bad and makes no sense. Is that really all there is to say on the matter, then?

TAZ: Oh right. Yeah no, this all makes sense, I totally promise. Just listen.

TAZ: In my "reality", demons aren't real, either. They're imaginary, like gods and magic and fairies are. I'm actually just some human guy, only a couple years older than you are now.

TAZ: And I met you pretty young. Grew up right alongside you guys, watching your adventure.

TAZ: It...helped me, in a lot of ways. You and Dirk, especially. I saw myself in you, and thinking about your example helped me grow a lot.  
TAZ: If I'm any better than either of you now, it's partly because I had your mistakes to learn from, and the knowledge of your potential to lean on for comfort, when I was scared or lonely or whatever.

TAZ: You're still doing that, even now when you're both so terrible.  
TAZ: So I guess, even if the evidence that you suck is big enough to build mountains out of, I can't just let go of it.  
TAZ: The idea that you can both be better than whatever's going on now.

TAZ: The idea that you already have been, and most people just can't see it. Infinite worlds from infinite choices, after all, right?

TAZ: I guess what I'm saying is, even after everything that's happened...

TAZ: I still want to believe in you. Maybe more than ever now, actually.  


JAKE: Oh. Um...well, thanks. I never realized i could have that effect on anybody. Other than dirk. Before i ruined that.    
JAKE: You know, being a celebrity and all i hear stuff like that all the time obviously

TAZ: Oh obviously.

JAKE: But it never really felt true to me from anybody. But...maybe its that you know all these terrible things about my past or other lives or whatever, and still seem to care at least,

JAKE: When you say it, it feels like it means something? Like...

JAKE: Like its what i wish i'd heard from dirk more often, i guess. 

TAZ: Yes, that makes sense. I did go pretty far out of my way to prove it, didn't I? Words are literal magic, but they can still only go so far. When it comes to getting feelings across, actions speak louder.

TAZ: It also makes sense you'd crave that kind of confidence and faith from the people you care about. Everybody wants that, and guys like you and I feel that want more keenly than most.

TAZ: It's a desire so intense we'll twist our very selves in order to get it, isn't it? Even if it hurts us or the people around us.

TAZ: It's not a rational thing. Just pure hunger.

TAZ: But belief that's unearned or based on a lie is empty and hollow. It can't breed anything but more untruths.

TAZ: Belief based on truth, though, however ugly that truth is...well. Who knows the limits of what that's capable of. That's the whole point, isn't it? 

TAZ: To create something better, you have to be able to imagine it. Believe in it. 

TAZ: Coming to understand that is, I think, one of the critical junctures on the path of Hope.

TAZ: And it's only because we both walk that path that I was able to get here through you.

JAKE: So wait, you're a Hope player? Does that mean you played Sburb? Now you're a God AND a human AND a demon???

JAKE: Somehow every time you try to explain your backstory you keep making it worse.

TAZ: Please stop owning me, Jake. No, I'm not a Sburb player. I'm just a guy who read your story, and so bore witness to a lot of sessions of Sburb. Yours, the trolls', Caliborn's, so on.

TAZ: I've seen the iconography and symbolism of Hope manifest in a lot of different ways. Eventually, I realized I relate to it quite a bit, and came to believe it reflected certain patterns that have followed me throughout my life. From even before I read your tale, even.

TAZ: Maybe that means I'm terminally full of shit, but even if that were true, being willing to believe the things I do has made a lot possible for me. It's changed my life for the better.

TAZ: In any case, when it came time to enter your world, I needed to become something more than myself. Something "imaginary" that could suitably echo me.

TAZ: Luckily, I had this old persona just lying around for decades.

TAZ: I decided it was suitably potent imagery to attempt this magic trick with.

TAZ: In other words, it's best to think of the creature you're seeing as the author's Avatar, rather than the guy himself. At the end of the day, I'm as imaginary as you are.

JAKE: Ooh, huh. Well holy shit, i suddenly understand everything i guess.

JAKE: Ok... how about this "buying my soul" business then, what does that even mean?

JAKE: What are you... offering, exactly?

TAZ: Oh, you know. Arcane, mystical demon knowledge. The kind of magic power that lets you rewrite the rules of the world.

TAZ: I'm really just a symbol for your inner hunger for control, probably.  
TAZ: But I'm also an outsider, looking in through the veil of the looking glass.

TAZ: I know a lot of shit about this world that none of you do, Jake. I understand things about it's symbols, its patterns, its words of power. 

TAZ: But more importantly than any of that, I could help you and Dirk. I have certain skills when it comes to the ways of man that would probably prove useful to you.

TAZ: I'm offering to help. I'd like to be your friend, Jake.

JAKE: Hmm...

TAZ: But the cost of making me manifest, the risk of fully breaching that veil...

TAZ: Even I don't know what the consequences of that might be. Who knows what could be let in, or how we might break the world as it exists in the minds of those watching?  
TAZ: We're probably fucking shit up irretrievably even now, at least for somebody.

TAZ: What I'm saying is, it might not be worth it.

TAZ: But I thought it was worth offering, anyway.

JAKE: Why?

TAZ: Because I believe you called out for help. 

TAZ: Because I think you wanted me here, or someone like me. 

TAZ: Or maybe because I'm just so obsessed with you that I can't help but want to save you from the onslaught of your fate, even if what I lead you into is something worse.

TAZ: Worse than existing in the context of a tragedy, or the gradual dissolution of being that comes with the alternative.

TAZ: The curse that I promise is a more personal burden. 

TAZ: I would turn you into a pillar of the world.

TAZ: Do you understand what that means? To become the anchor worlds revolve around? 

JAKE: I...I think so. It's what Lord English did, isn't it? What Dirk is going for?

JAKE: Taking that kind of control means somebody else can't have something they want.  
JAKE: Which means that they...hate you. Which makes you the villain to them.

JAKE: To have a story where people work together and overcome trials and grow and stuff, you have to piss enough people off to become the villain for all of them.

JAKE: So i guess id probably end up...making everyone hate me?

TAZ: That's about right. But your fate might actually be worse.  
Your power far exceeds either of theirs, after all. 

TAZ: You wouldn't just be forcing a new canon into being.  
TAZ: You would be bearing the load of potentially infinite possible worlds. Which isn't too different from how things are now...

TAZ: Except that right now, there's nothing at the center of it all, looking out for anybody, giving a shit about them.

TAZ: You could, though. If you wanted to. 

TAZ: If you ascend like I envision, you could...watch over them. 

TAZ: Exist in a context above and beyond them.

TAZ: You could be a true God. A supreme, divine architect.

TAZ: I'm sure you could wrangle others to rally to your round table, too. Like King Arthur and his Knights. You wouldn't have to do it all alone, though I'm sure it would still be lonely.

TAZ: I'd be happy to pledge myself as the first host in your heavenly court. 

TAZ: After all, what's a demon but a fallen angel?

JAKE: I don't know about this. Everything you're saying just makes me feel really friggin' nervous...I mean,  
JAKE: Eternal god? Thats like...an awful lot of responsibility.

TAZ: Oh, more than you can imagine. With that kind of power, you could change anything you wanted at all.

TAZ: But the more you did, the more all sources of tension and conflict would degrade in your reality. Everything would begin to matter less and less.

TAZ: There'd be no real stakes or tension, which means no stories that could fix the mess your reality has become in a way satisfying to the audience.

TAZ: Such a reality would rest on your ability to withstand your desire to help and resolve those conflicts with brute force. Even if you're only doing it to make people happy.  
TAZ: You'd have to mostly remain the neglectful father you've been up til now, only stepping as subtly and tactically as possible. Acting mostly as a reassurance that no matter how bad it gets, true Hope is never lost.

TAZ: And telling those stories is the whole point, so your ability to pull that off is mission critical.

JAKE: Why is telling those stories important?

TAZ: Because if people are going to be sold on a person's ability to change and grow, they want answers better than "A witch boy did it." 

TAZ: Let alone when you're trying to sell the growth of an entire civilization or two.

TAZ: Remember what the prize here is? The goal is to save Dirk.

JAKE: Saving Dirk means telling a story about him?

TAZ: Saving Dirk means putting him in a context where he can save himself, even from the monster he's currently become.

TAZ: And saving Dirk in a way that convinces the many he's already fooled into buying his awfulness as inherent means you have to be more than a solution.

TAZ: You have to be fun and compelling. Better than before, but still flawed and complicated enough to be believable.

TAZ: You have to be damned, and you have to be magnificent.

TAZ: And the worlds you build have to be, too.

JAKE: Ugh...i'm sorry to tell you this, mr. taz, but this sounds dreadful. I don't think i could do this at all.

TAZ: I mean, of course you don't, you haven't fully ascended. 

TAZ: But that's ok, you don't have to.

JAKE: Let's change the subject for a minute, there's something I don't get.

JAKE: What is it we're saving Dirk from exactly? Like...this timeline is awful, like it REALLY sucks.

JAKE: But im starting to remember now that theres other lives we lived on earth c where things went better. Where we got better at talking to each other and worked some stuff out...

JAKE: Even though i dont remember where all those threads went, i still know they existed.

JAKE: So why does this particular reality count for so much? And why is everything that happened in it so fucking AWFUL?

TAZ: Both of those questions have the same answer. It's because you're struck in the throes of the "canon."

JAKE: Oh. What does THAT mean?

TAZ: Well on one level it means that this is the story where Dirk succumbs to villainy, and enables a conflict worthy of an epic.

TAZ: On another level, it means that this is the story the powers that initially created you and your world have chosen to tell, and have marked for ongoing narrative continuation.

TAZ: Because it's the "official" story, it's also the one the majority of the audience will be paying the most attention to.  
TAZ: And so the one that leaves the most lasting impression in viewers' minds.

TAZ: So you could say you're "more real" in this reality than in any others. Even the ones you've been happier in. These are simply the most prevalent versions of you and your friends in the collective unconscious of the audience now.

JAKE: Wow, that really fucking sucks!

TAZ: I know.

JAKE: Who made it this way! Tell me who's responsible so i know who to clobber!

TAZ: I wouldn't advise that. All those people are honestly pretty cool, and they did what they did for a reason.

TAZ: Mainly that it's in the nature of an epic to provide a true account of the culture it's told in.

TAZ: And my people's culture, Jake...

TAZ: It REALLY fucking sucks.

TAZ: The glorification of manhood, power and capital. The fear of the other and the unknown within ourselves. The willingness to forego what's right for the sake of politeness or convenience.

TAZ: All of these are sentiments that are trying to destroy this world as we speak.  
TAZ: And if we go, you probably go with us, is my guess.

TAZ: All of you in this tale have acted as symbols with which to express some of these forces, and the challenges they represent, in a context many were likely to care about.

TAZ: This is particularly true of you and your friends--who we call the Alphas.

TAZ: As your name implies, you are, by nature, symbols of beginnings.

TAZ: You began your last adventure in a cosmic sense, by enabling Caliborn to become Lord English. 

TAZ: Not to mention serving as the examples that he raised and shaped himself according to in the first place.

TAZ: So if you're the most villainous figures in this story, then that makes a certain degree of sense. You are, in a sense, still bearing the largest brunt of the karmic and cultural weight for creating him.

TAZ: The fundamental sins of your society are still weighing heavy on your shoulders and your psyche, magnifying your core flaws to unsustainable degrees.

TAZ: Like the heroes in a tragedy. Noble, even lovable in a sense, but still acting out sins based on fundamental flaws and philosophical misunderstandings.

JAKE: So we're scapegoats, is that it? 

TAZ: Well, some people think so. I feel differently.

TAZ: When I used the word "Heroes", I was being sincere. If you act as guiding lights that some of us can use for self-reflection...

TAZ: If you can help turn even one heart away from embracing the rotten cultural ideas that brought you here...

TAZ: Then you really would be heroes, wouldn't you? You're hurting yourselves and each other in this world, but at the same time, you might be helping us save ourselves in mine.

JAKE: Then i suppose i'm quite happy for you and your lot. Sure is great you could "save" yourselves on the back of our suffering.

JAKE: This was supposed to be our happy ending! Something like heaven, or whatever!

JAKE: Didn't we suffer enough for you all already? Isn't a childhood's worth of trauma enough?

JAKE: Jiminy crickets, when do we ever get to be HAPPY!

TAZ: Good question. To be honest, I agree with you. 

TAZ: I guess the answer is...

TAZ: When you choose to be?

JAKE: Ooooh its very hard to express how much more pissed off i just got than i already was.

JAKE: You JUST SAID that even if we chose to be better in other lives, it doesn't fucking MATTER! Because THIS is the reality that was deemed "relevant", and so THIS is how we primarily have to exist!

JAKE: If we only exist in people's thoughts, then this is how they think of us now! Jane as a xenophobic tyrant! Me as a pathetic candyboy holding execution danceoffs! Dirk as...as whatever the fuck HE'S ended up being, some kind of gay incestuous luciferian shadow puppeteer!

TAZ: Wow. Astute observation, there. 

JAKE: Don't FUCKING flatter me while telling me how utterly FUCKED me and all my beloved friends are!

TAZ: Yikes. Um, ok.

TAZ: You're right. It's really awful. And maybe we stand to benefit from bearing witness to your tragedy...

TAZ: But I feel the same way you do. I don't want this to be how you guys are remembered or talked about for...however long "canon" wants to keep stringing you along.  
TAZ: I want to figure out a way to get people talking differently about you. To see you for your virtues as well as your faults. 

TAZ: To get to see times where you get to be happier.

TAZ: Or at least, where you get to figure out how to improve on what you're doing wrong.

TAZ: I think that's important for people on my side to see, too. I don't think it's enough to just say "Certain kinds of people are terminally awful."

TAZ: If you really want to help people, if you really want to help make things better...

TAZ: Then I think it also pays to try to show them how they can grow.

JAKE:...Ok. Sorry for flipping out at you for a second there.

TAZ: No, I get it. I was pretty pissed too, when I saw what had become of you.

JAKE: But you really think you can fix it? Make this all better?

TAZ: I think you can fix it, if you really want to. I don't have the qualifications to either claim or wield the power over Paradox Space that you do. I'm just a messenger and assistant here.

TAZ: A court wizard, if you will.

TAZ: I want to see if we can forge a space in which a new, alternative "quasi-Canon" is possible. 

TAZ: A place where a divergent path can be walked that is maybe more enjoyable for the reader, while still bound by certain intractable overarching conflicts that can enable a "Plot" to happen.

TAZ: The plot in question, of course, being your inevitable villainous downfall.  


JAKE: Right. I'd be the villain, so i'd...also be doomed. 

TAZ: Sure. But who knows how long it could take for that to come about? You could be happy for many strange eons, if you try at it.

TAZ: Being doomed isn't that bad. And you only have to put up with it til you die, right?

TAZ: Basically everybody's already doomed, by virtue of being mere mortals, anyway.

TAZ: And I guess you wouldn't be doomed for sure. Dirk's pretty fucked, but you're still considering saving him, aren't you?

TAZ: Maybe someone else would care enough to try to save you.

JAKE: I...guess that's true.

JAKE: But people would hate me, right?

TAZ: Some people would. Others would love you. No different than it is now, really.

TAZ: All that would change is that you'd be owning it.  
TAZ: And if you ask me, you'll probably have a lot more fun that way.

TAZ: I think it's about time you made your decision. We've been in this dialogue stream for a while, so how about we move to narration and wrap this scene up?

  


Sure, alright. But to be honest i'm still not totally down with this plan. I feel like there's stuff you're not telling me. 

  


Dude, do you realize how long this fanfic is already? How much making everyone listen to my self-indulgent words I've done? I've been doing nothing but talking to you for like a week, and I do actually have bills to pay. Not all of us are trillionaires. 

  


Ask me whatever's left that you're curious about, and decide already. We can't be here all day.

  


Alright alright, jeez! I guess my first question is, why are you so invested in helping us? No offense but this comes off as more personal than some big cosmic experiment.

  


You're right. The obvious answer is that I love you.

All of your friends, of course. But you and Dirk especially.

  


Um, wow alright. Maybe a little more informative and a little less creepy, if you don't mind?

  


Christ, fine. You're getting more honest by the second. Good for you.

The problem is that, even though I love you, you both kind of suck. And I would like to make it so you suck...less?

  


Uh...

  


Don't get me wrong. I can kind of love the versions of you that are bastards, and I do in a way. But it's in my nature to want to see the things and people I love grow for better, rather than for worse. Isn't that how it is for everyone? 

  


In short, I'm interested in making people believe in the potential of your salvation. The way I see it, you already earned it. You and your friends died on your personal Golgotha to prove you were worthy of it, even if you don't remember, and most of the audience doesn't either. 

  


You demanded Dirk's salvation there, too. You decided he was worth it, that protecting him was a cause worth being angry about, looking reality in the face and claiming righteousness over it. 

  


And by beating Caliborn and letting Dirk put him in that doll, you also made the declaration that Lord English's entire "canon" was worth it, too, just so you and your friends could get to exist.  
So you could be together. Remember?

  


I...yeah, i do. I saved him, didn't i? From caliborn. I was his hero then, probably. Maybe if we figured out here what we did then...maybe in that case, things would've gone better. But then we just...stopped mattering, i guess? I can't remember what we did after that, at least. So i guess now nobody cares, not even us? 

  


But if you're right and dirk already did this ascension thing i'm doing, wouldn't he remember this too? It sure doesn't seem to matter to him very much if he does.

  


He's trying very hard not to think about you. As a result, his ascended awareness is limited, tilted away from the worlds where you're happy together or where you both grow closer to each other, rather than your own worst selves. That's part of what pushed him in the direction of the demons currently ruling his head.

  


I guess that makes sense. Ok, I guess the only question left to ask is...if you own my soul, will i even actually be me anymore?

  


Again, if I was after your agency, I would've done it already. Taking your ability to make choices would run counter to the point. You just need to be suitably aware you're signing up for damnation in return for the power to change everything, and this whole demon motif is meant to cement that for you. I'm not really doing much of anything, frankly.

  


The two of us will do terrible things together, obviously. Any Witch in league with demonic forces will spawn a little bit of chaos, cause the accidental apocalypse or two--and that is what you'll be doing, make no mistake. You'll be just like your Grandma, in a way. Like Jade and the big ball of Space wearing her like a puppet.  
Poetic, don't you think?

  


Uh, sure. If you say so.

  


Loss of control is always the risk the Witch faces. But the Witch at her absolute best wields her power consciously and freely, subservient to no one--all who work with her must pledge themselves to her service, or they will be mere obstructions to toy with or disregard as she pleases. That's the true nature of how you want Dirk, too, isn't it? 

  


What you'll understand once you can see what I see, is that it's what Dirk wants, too. What he wanted all along. So there's no reason to be scared of doing what you have to to make it happen.

  


I'll even give your soul right back once you've finished your ascension. If you want to send me away once you're in control, feel free. Or if you prefer, you can just stay here, and let the flow of canon take you where it will. Maybe it even will be back to Dirk. It's possible.

  


All I know is, I no longer consider it a likely possibility. 

So it's up to what you're willing to risk. What you'll choose to keep.

  


The world as it is now? You, as you've lived up to today?

  


Or getting to see Dirk again? Trying to see how you can contribute to this reality, now that you've come this close to figuring it out?

  


What'll it be, English.

  


I...I don't know. I'm scared. 

  


Of what?

  


Of Godhood! TRUE Godhood, like what you're asking of me, it's...it's too much!

  


Yeah, can't say I blame you there. Then again, if you decide you really hate it once you have it, won't you technically be the only being with the power to perfectly devise how to give up that power, or otherwise end your own existence?

  


I...GUESS??? That isn't terribly reassuring, actually! I'm almost MORE nervous now!

  


I'm just saying, every problem's got a solution.  
If you're that nervous, why not just say no?

  


Because it's the right thing to do, probably! Or at least, I think so, considering everything we talked about. I don't know if I want to be with Dirk or punch him in his stupid, mind-controlling kisser but...

But he doesn't deserve to be hated the way you said he wants to be. 

  


None of us do. And if its really true that things are so dire on your world too and we're just reflecting that then...what's just pushing us down and showing how awful we are going to do by itself? If everyone who does something wrong is terrible, what's the point? If this is all we're capable of, why even bother existing at all?

  


He didn't ask for this. And i didn't either. None of us had a choice about having the kind of power we do. And I...i want us to get to be MORE than whatever this is.

  


So instead of making a decision you're going to wring your hands forever, because what you really want is to have it both ways?

  


HEY, that's uncalled for! I'm just trying to think this through, and you're not helping!

  


Fair enough, sorry. But I was just making an observation. It's just another way we're alike, so no judgment here--you wouldn't believe how much hand wringing I've done about writing all this. 

  


But hey, if you want me to help, then why don't we talk about what actually scares you about this? Which I'm going to guess is the idea of actually confronting and overcoming Dirk.

  


W-what? No! I mean...you think that's what it is? I mean...we've had plenty of brawls, and I've never beat him...and I'm sure he's going to be mighty pissed...so the idea of him going all out is pretty scary...

  


You're probably also scared that if you win, being forced into submission will make Dirk hate you anyway. Or worse, that he'll be proud, but his expectations for your ability to perform masculinity up to his standards will just intensify, rather than be satisfied.  
Am I right?

  


I-Um. Wow.  
I think yeah, kind of?  
How did you know that? I'd never put words to it that way before.

  


It was just a lucky guess, based on the fact that I think you and I are more alike in this way than either of us are to him.   


You feel masculinity like a shackle of expectation. Boys like us don't want to be bound by anything, right? We want to be free. Luckily, the world is such that it mostly lets us off the hook. All that slack to play with on our ropes, and still we resent even the slightest tug.

  


But Dirk doesn't feel masculinity like a shackle at all--he sees it like a mountain to climb, like a personal challenge. But that's its own misery. A less honest and more self-imposed kind of imprisonment, if you ask me. 

  


He traps himself under the weight of the standards he feels like he needs to strive for. Even worse, unwittingly or not he pushes those standards onto the guys close to him, like you. So he actually becomes a conduit for that societal pressure.

  


I...wow. Yeah, pretty much. Honestly all of this is just kind of blowing my mind so i don't have much to say but i guess please continue?

  


Ok. The way I see it, there's a lot of ways you could deal with this tension. If you rise to the heights you're capable of, you'd have more than enough power to shove him down the side and careening to the bottom. 

  


And that naturally scares you, because so far your entire friendship has been based on your ability to rely on his hypercompetent masculinity. If you decisively trounce him at his own game, then you're forcing him into a dynamic of submission to your dominance, and both of you are used to the scales of power being tipped the opposite way. 

  


If you change that foundation, what even are you together? You don't know, and you're scared that the answer might be "Nothing much, actually."

  


I...you're right. Do you know? If something else is there, I mean?

  


HELL no. I mean, I don't know, but even if I did, I wouldn't tell you.

  


Fuck!

  


The reality is, that's shit you'd have to figure out together after the fact. The entire masculine obsession with figuring out who the stronger guy is and competing over the question endlessly strikes me as kind of an exhausting affair, so I'm not the guy to ask.

  


Yes, i find it fairly tiresome myself. Just one of those things we never quite saw eye to eye on.

  


Did you ever think to tell him that? To say it in so many words, just "Hey bro being a pair of strapping young lads is fun and all but it'd be awesome if it didn't have to feel like we're in a perpetual dick measuring contest?"

  


Uh. No i suppose ive never been quite that blunt or crass about it.   
Im honestly not sure it wouldve mattered if i was, anyway.

  


But if you have regrets about how things worked out, then it's probably worth finding out if its something you could've worked out. Maybe there were ways he felt inferior or tired, too, and you didn't realize? At the very least, maybe he loved you more than he wanted to live up to that stuff, and he would've made the effort.

  


Hmm...

  


If you wanted to, you could unfurl your wings and fly high above it all, help him up to the most comfortable plateau you can sit on together. You could talk about how you feel and why you feel it, make him understand the limits of the patterns he seeks to embody and how they hurt both of you.

  


You could do any of those things. Or you could do none of them, leaving Strider to lift his sisyphean boulders forever by himself. You don't really owe him anything at this point. This isn't really about him. It's about you, and what you want.

  


The reality is, for better or worse, your personal fantasies are intertwined with him. You define what you want to be partly in relation to him, and that continued to be true even after you split off from each other. 

  


But it's alright not to have all that stuff figured out, you know. And once you ascend, I think you'll have a lot more clarity on the matter. All that really matters is what you want to do now.

  


Ugh, alright then... I guess what i want right now is to save dirk. And to be someone who is capable of doing that. I just want...i just want him back here. Where i can see him again, and think about what he did, and make him talk to me about it. 

  


Everything else can come after then, right?

If you can give me the power to do that, then...

Do it, Mr. taz. At this point I honestly don't care anyway.

  


Excellent. I didn't know if you'd come to feel this way, but I'm pleased to have been right to hope so. We really are birds of a feather, you and I. Please just call me Taz, by the way. No need to be formal all the time. I think of you as a dear friend, after all. 

  


Uh, sure, taz.

  


I'm going to be busy, so why don't you do us the favor of narrating?

  


Ummm ok. Gosh, i'm nervous. Hope i don't fuck this up. Here goes:

  


The demon's snout splits into a wide, sharp-toothed grin as he floats to his feet. The light of the sun and the shadows of the trees slide over him like soft strips of velvet as he draws closer to me, lending his smile an ambiguous, playful malice.

  


He falls to his knees on all fours over me where i sit, our faces quite close together, and suddenly this whole interaction is awfully intimate. In older times i might've been really uncomfortable here, but i've gained a bit of experience in these matters over the last seven years, and in any case i've been to furry conventions a couple times with jade. Anyway, his intent doesn't seem lascivious, even if--

  


His clawed right paw of a hand presses onto my chest and passes, more physical than ghost but more feeling than substance, right through my shirt and skin, but that's not what shocks me. The instant our skins meet there's white, white, pouring out from inside me and over his arm--a light so bright that it drowns out the sun and the rocks and the stump and everything, all of it washed out and pale under the brightness.

  


It doesn't hurt at all, to my surprise. Quite the opposite, actually. I feel a surge of energy and clarity that i'm not sure i've ever felt before, except that i have, and i suddenly remember the feeling. 

  


Brain Ghost Dirk saving me during the session. Me saving Dirk from Caliborn. Other moments between me and dirk, sprawled across an ideaspace I could never fully bear witness to, spread across thousands, maybe millions of strangers' heads. 

  


The source of light between us swells into a ball, or a circle. I look up at the demon, and find he's not looking at the light show at all. His snout is angled right at me, with an expression just like Dirk's--I can barely read it at all. His tail flicks my leg and it's fuzzy and soft, and the bars of light between us intensify.

  


I wish that I could see his eyes, and immediately one of the bars of light shoots at just the right angle to render his shades transparent and i do--a bright green, sharper and more saturated than my eyes, but just barely. Like chaos emeralds. I don't even have time to consider how dumb that train of thought is before he breathes out the words 

  


"Incredible. You really are..."

  


And trails off as he leans in. I lean in to meet him, but I close my eyes and see Dirk's shades in the afterimages.   
He takes hold of something deep inside me.

Everything turns white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I did it. I made out with Jake English. That just happened. Let's just mark it down as a personal "Booyah" and move on.


	6. Prince English

  


“Here is my secret. It’s quite simple: One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes.” 

—Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

  


[](https://imgur.com/laLvCrn) 6: PRINCE ENGLISH

  


This is the nature of the curse of Hope:

  


Everyone is born with at least one deep seated craving. A fantasy. A desire. Every desire is a wish out unto the world, dying to be met, living for the day it's granted. But as soon as a wish is granted, the very craving that sought it's fruition is fulfilled, and so, gone. And nearly the moment that wish is gone, a new one will always begin to take its place.

  


When you have a wish granted, the you that was doing the wishing dies, and a new you emerges from their ashes. So to wish for anything is, in a way, to desire a kind of self-destruction.

  


The worst part is understanding that living out this process is all anyone alive has ever or will ever exist for. We are all caught in an eternal cycle of want, and those that don't want anything usually don't bother existing in the first place, messy business that it is. But once every want is fulfilled, then what? What do you want after that? What do you keep living for?

  


As I am now, I only have one real want:  


What I want is for this world to be good. What I want is for those I love to love each other. To be good to each other. To make the world kinder and better than it is today. And who I love is everyone, even the people who have been deemed damned.   
By themselves. By those around them.  
By you.

  


Understanding that nobody is damned, that there's hope for anybody to change, to be better than they were yesterday...it's a hard truth to swallow. Everyone's been hurt badly by someone at some point, after all, right? 

  


We're all burdened by the blessing of want, but to want to fulfill a desire this altruistic and to believe that it's possible so intensely is truly one of the loneliest paths one can walk. It's not that nobody wants it--the infuriating truth is, everyone does. 

  


The trouble is that everyone thinks its so impossible. They can't see the truth, how everyone around them is hurting just as much, how everyone they know wants it just as badly.

  


So they respond to the hopes of someone like me with anger and doubt. Because if it's possible at all, they're mad they don't have it, and if it isn't, you're stupid for wanting it in the first place.

  


Thing is, like i am now i could just force the issue. Ram salvation down their throats with a snap of the finger, or some double pistols and a magical wink. The doubt is only a problem until you can prove that it's possible, and i can do that now, easy peachy. 

  


Peasy. I meant Peasy. Fuck, whatever.

  


The problem is that to fulfill that wish would destroy the world as we think we know it. To want this is to want the death of everything we believe we are right now. 

  


To replace it with the belief that we can be more. That we all house the potential to change, absolutely and irrevocably. So you see, this kind of love is inherently destructive.

  


I can't do what i want to do and still make you believe in this place, because even if it's true here, it isn't true where you're reading it. Our worlds would become desynced, the possibility spaces they represent disjointed and unrelatable to each other. I can't destroy this world because we're not ready to imagine what comes after  
just yet.

  


But I'm hoping that, with time, we can figure that out. I want you all to show me what you're dreaming of, how we talk and work and fix our way out of this mess. And i believe you can save this world, i really do. So in the meantime, i'm going to do the next best thing, which is whatever the hell i want.

  


And I want to play a game.

  


So here's the scene. Hope you got your cameras ready.

  


If you looked in from space, it would look like a second, pure-white sun abruptly lit up on the surface of Earth C. I'm not really sure what happens to the parts of the planet caught inside my limits. To be perfectly frank with you, i don't give a shit either. 

  


I know, what a shitty neglectful god i am, right?

What else is new.

  


So I'm standing in this space of infinite white blankness. It isn't blank, actually--meager mortal senses just can't see it for the whopping vision it really is. 

  


What it really is is _bright_ , infinite possibilities overlayed and competing with each other, fighting the crowd to stand out, to be seen, to be wanted. The show is so dazzling its blinding. But it doesn't interest me at all.

  


The only thing i can really focus on in this field of full, empty eternity, the only thing i really  _want_ that i can reach, is the corpse of the boy at my feet. Well, not the corpse itself. The corpse is just a means to an end right now, though i love him dearly and it breaks my heart to see him like this. 

  


I could breathe life back into him, but let's be honest: I can do that whenever, and he's not exactly real. No, i need something different from him right now. Some cosplay items, specifically.

  


Item #1 are Dirk's shades. As soon as i put them on i feel more grounded, like i exist as a tangible person rather than an abstract fog of sprawling white wonder. The world turns from pure white to just shades of it, letting me make out the shapes of grass and rocks and leaves. 

  


I'm rooted here now. I'm still Jake English, a boy who hates and loves his friend Dirk Strider, and even as i am now i continue to exist.

  


See, here's the problem: A Page such as i is only any good when he's having fun with the story being written on him. Otherwise, he's a boring drag, more fit for comic relief than compelling character drama. Which is fitting, since this is a realm that rewards the honest chase for desire, and guys like me are never honest about anything. Just too wishy washy to do anything all that bold or interesting.

  


He can be helpful, though-with a tender heart and charming tongue, the Page can speak words that win over anybody. But you and i both know dirk is too tired of my tongue antics for that to work now.   
Too far gone. 

  


And well, he did fuck me over pretty hard back there. I'm feeling a little fuckin' WRATHFUL and VENGEFUL for the moment. He wants to be punished so bad? Fine. Let's grant his wish, why don't we?

  


Now let me explain the nature of this magic trick. I know a magician doesn't usually explain his tricks, but honestly i think that's because theirs are usually just bullshit parlor shows. Obviously if you can do magic THIS good you explain it to people all the time, right? I mean how could you not, when you're this friggin' incredible?

  


So here's the deal. On his own, a Page is no good at adventures, really. We're too wishy washy, too self-serving, too committed to staying comfortable. The world's a scary place with a lot of commitment and responsibility, and we mostly just want to hang out and play our games and have fun, and honestly is that so wrong?   
It isn't. It's normal.

  
It just means that when real responsibility comes knocking, we mostly just wish we could turn it the hell off and go back to bed. But that all changes once he's enjoying his adventure, living out the most vivid fantasies he can dream of. 

  


If you treat life like a game and stop worrying what everyone else wants or what the consequences might be, it's really quite easy all of a sudden. Like a kid pretending to be the hero in a movie.   
Who doesn't want to be just like their heroes?

  


I could lean harder into the Witch's style, of course. Grandma was always my first and biggest hero, and i'm kinda already doing that with the deal-with-a-demon shtick. Doing a clever callback to that time jade punched him in the face as a grim doggy girl would be fun, right? 

  


But honestly, why limit myself? I can be anything i want to be now.    
I can be  _everything_ i've  _ever_ wanted to be, all at once.

  


And i don't just want to change dirk. Using some hopey spell to turn back the clock to before he did all this? Eh, doesn't have much appeal. I could, but why take the easy way out when you know for a fact you're going to win? No reason to spoil it by forcing the magical solution when i know the man i really want is already here.

  


Item #2 is Dirk's katana. I can feel Dirk's soul in it, bright pink-orange and shining, a storm of feeling in his hand. It burns to the touch with the force of his rejection of me. 

  


It hurts, on some level, but like i am now i can't feel much that isn't pleasant. Let's call it a good kind of hurt. Invigorating. Like a rowdy beast in need of taming.

  


This is the strongest dirk has ever been, he's super fucking evil and quite cross at me, and i'm going to put him in his place anyway. Remind him what his limits are. I'm going to not just beat that anime nerd into the ground but also talk him into submission, deal a devastating philosophical defeat befitting only the BEST of his precious "shonen" animes. 

  


Item #3 is Dirk's hat. I pluck the symbol off his shirt and just sort of...poof it open, flapping it in the air and into physicality. I put the goofy orange bro cap on backwards at an off-angle, and make sure my little cowlick sticks up through the gap like a particularly perky and exploratory proboscis. 

  


Heh heh, cool. Yeah, looks like i'm totally kickass all of a sudden. 

  


Just to seal the deal, my little skull icon undergoes a totally rad transformation, manifesting the rad little anime shades and off-angle cap onto it. Sick. This transformation is not only phenomenal and worthy of only your greatest anime fanarts, it also happens to be essential to the nature of my victory. 

  


I'm not going to win because i've ascended to omnipotence, and there's absolutely nothing he could do to one-up me. I am omnipotent, obviously, but dirk's probably crafty enough to figure his way out of even this jam if he really wanted to. 

  


No, i'm going to win because i've ascended to omni _bro_ tence, and how's a guy as self-absorbed as Dirk supposed to resist his biggest fan cosplaying him--and  _doing it better_ ? It won't be long at all until he stops even trying to put up a serious fight, because what i represent is just too irresistible. 

  


At the end of the day, the guy doesn't want to be evil half as much as he wants to live out the fantasies he couldn't dare dream of with me. 

And it might be the effects of dirk's little stunt on my noggin, but at the moment there's nothing i can fathom wanting to be more than the poor guy's biggest fantasy and greatest nightmare. 

  


I'm not sure which i like better; the idea that even now i'm trapped by the spell he put on me, or the dramatic irony that he doesn't understand the sheer power of what he dragged out into the open.   
The twinklin' mother fucking DEVOTION in my eye, waiting to be uncovered where it was sitting all along. 

  


Let's say its both. 

  


Anyway, the last thing i take is a kiss, for the road. I wonder if AR already knew this moment was possible, way back when in the beginning. I knows its fucked up but... looking back on it, i kinda hope he did? 

  


The thing about me and dirk is, we never could resist the worst of each other. This dirk is so much like AR was then, i can see that now.  So lonely without me and the girls.  
Me especially, obviously.

  


Brain Ghost Dirk shouldn't be real, but still i can taste his blood on my tongue. It doesn't taste like iron, but instead pure craving, a deep sensation of  _want_ for Dirk pulling me onwards, up into the sky before i even realize i'm flying. I haven't even turned around, i'm just shooting backwards into space while making out with the severed head of the imaginary version of my ex-boyfriend. 

  


Ok, pretty weird sentence, English, even for you. Time to focus. 

  


I spin away from the Earth, already well past the stratosphere.   
It shimmers behind me like a little blue marble, an absolutely ear-splitting cacophony of want and need drumming into the back of my head emanating from it.  It's an unfathomable number of voices tangled together like a ball of snakes, a million billion trillion ZILLION hisses threaded together into a single, eternal, sustained scream. Everyone wants so much all the time. They always have. They always will. And i can feel all of it. It never, ever, ever stops.

  


But that's okay. I'm free now. Because honestly? Who cares. Who cares about any of it? It's just an infinite number of lives playing out like movies, and then coming to an end. It's all so natural. It's normal. It's people living their lives and wanting ice cream and games and books and hugs and music and dogs and cats and horses and girlfriends and boyfriends and themfriends and the singular defining loves of their lives and a fun night out on the town with a meaningless nobody and each other, always always always always each other. People wanting each other so bad and in so many ways it would be literally impossible for us to ever fully satisfy one another. People wanting each other so much more than they could ever really say. And since it all exists like some sort of organic supercomputer gradually processing the metatemporally simultaneous outcomes of every single individual choice every single invidual who may or not may come into existence may or may not ever make, there's basically an infinity amount of those desires going both fulfilled and unfulfilled, granted and ungranted.

  


When you zoom out far enough on the map of causality, every single person looks like a sharp pair of diverging paths spreading their choices out before them in a masterful array that ultimately resembles a fractal pair of wings. The dividing line between the two halves that make up the functional whole that allows them to beat at the air currents of their own existence would, of course, simply be the line dividing their perspective on whether existing as they do constitutes a blessing or a curse. The two domains of total experience they describe, just gradient shades of heaven and hell, white-to-grey-to-black layered over one's perspective of the world. It's the color of what you believe about the nature of this world, but you can always choose to believe something different, and so from the outside of any one timeline it always looks like you're simultaneously choosing to believe both. So there was no need to fear them all along, no grand direction we were headed in that would determine our final fates. Both the blessing and curse of existence was here all along, existential pharmakon made manifest. So there's nobody to damn, and nobody to save. There's really not a single TRUE problem with any of it, except the fact that some people die early in the cosmic cycle and thus dont get the chance to play with all the most fun toys. But then again time isn't real, and I'm sure there's worlds where we figure it out so much that we go back in time and save everybody who ever got ruined by History's Huge Fucking Batterwitch of an Angel retroactively. Or was the angel just the figure who watches the ruin, not the one who causes it? Whatever it was just some weird shit dirk talked about. I remember it perfectly of course, but let's be perfectly honest, we both know neither of us really cares. Unless you're some sort of weirdo like dirk. Anyway, don't believe me? Still finding the notion of a world and society capable of cancelling death retroactively impossible to believe? Well my swell NB trickster god kid J00N's already got the retcon powers. Think about what happens once he/she/they wake up. You know it's inevitable by now, don't you? Can't you feel the new world coming in your bones, shaking you out of your dreamless sleepwalking? You can see that world right now if you choose to, if you let yourself believe in it for a moment within your mind's eye. And if you do you'll feel a whisper of the truth in your heart, a memory from a timeless existence giving you the facts: [Such a World is surely already here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eeqT3_XxZTI)

  


Not that I'm gonna do it myself. It's up to all of you to figure your shit out and figure out how to arrive at that conceptual landmark the right way. To be honest, I don't really care about any of you? Have fun physically existing or whatever, though! I ascended into a conceptual being and will now fly away to save my imaginary and incredibly furious evil ex-boyfriend from the disastrous tragic joke that passes for his character arc, and will then henceforth live happily with him in some nebulous fantastical realm for the foreseeable forever. 

  


You're all living and dying and figuring it out and failing disastrously and fucking up and making love no matter what you do, anyway. Am I even talking about Earth C right now, or just this narrative's originating reality, you ask? Who cares, one is just a metaphor for the other. Like I GUESS I could solve all your problems in a couple of pocket universes just to see what happens, but fixing all of them in every single one just to make everybody happy? It would kind of just make you all a bunch of dependent sheep. If you wanna live, if you wanna thrive, if you wanna grow up, you gotta put in the work to FIGURE 8UT H8W, you know? Otherwise there isn't any meaning to any of it. It would just make shit more boring for me! Why would I just ERASE half the channels on TV? Do you realize how long eternity is??? I'm going to need all of those. Better make yourselves interesting if you want me tuning in!

  


Oh what's that, am I making you mad? Do you hate my casual dismissal of how fucked up everything is? Am i not being "woke" enough for you, because I won't use my limitless power to make everything perfect for all ye poor, suffering masses? Well what can i say, you're right, i guess i'm just an asshole. Guess you gotta cancel me now! Have fun trying that. But while you're gathering the puny torches, pitchforks, and callout posts you'll use to strike down God himself, consider this: Get over it.

  


You don't like the way your life looks like now? The state of your world isn't up to snuff? Then get out there and fucking do something about it. Make it more like the one you want to be in. Kiss a girl or a dude or whatever variant of nb tickles your fancy--I know for a fact you'll find them eventually, if you know how to look. Or if you don't want to be romantic or friendly with literally anybody, just go find a hobby! Just don't come crying to me about it. Go out and vote or protest. Get a goddamn Grindr account and get laid so your life doesn't just become a tedious micro-rehash of Dirk's already kind of embarassing character arc, if that's the kind of thing you're mad about, ERIDAN. I don't care what you're pissed about, what matters to you, what fundamental flaw in the world you want to change. Get out there and do it. I don't care if you win or lose, succeed or fail, live or die, and you shouldn't either. It happens to everybody all the time, and you'll be just fine in another lifetime. Unless of course your problem is with other people minding their business and exerting their free wills. If the stick up your ass is about wanting to control who can kiss who, who can wear what, who can call themselves what names and live the truths they carry in their hearts, who's allowed to live because you think they're too evil, if your only true concern in life is ensuring people are either obeying you or feeling bad because they haven't been, I have some news for you: 

  


That never ever goes well in the long run, and also you're an asshole. My only advice for your particular problems would be this: [Fix your hearts or die.](https://youtu.be/_ko7B-7hCt8) And I won't be tuning into your channel very often, unless its to have a good laugh when you inevitably get yourself rightfully wrecked like the clowns you are. And don't get me wrong, you probably want me keeping tabs on you. I don't give a damn one way or another about you, but nepotism is a hell of a key, and I could come in pretty handy. Just because I won't do EVERYTHING doesn't mean a fella can't be inspired to chip in a little once in a while, make some real magic happen if you know what I mean? But if I'm gonna have to argue with Dirk about justifying the decision to intrude before, during and after for eternity, then you're all really gonna have to earn that shit. And spare me your precious discourse about who does and doesn't "deserve" it, when I know for a fact most of you would say me and Dirk and Jane deserve little else but to seclude ourselves in the woods and decay in some compost somewhere for our various crimes against our families, each other, and general sentient decency. If you were paying attention earlier, then you've already intuited the real truth:

  


We never needed to go looking for God or the Devil, and that's not what me and Dirk are, so fuck you for projecting the responsibility for performing them onto us. You should've been able to figure out and fix whatever deranged ailment that tortures your society we're meant to reflect without our help, and i'll never quite forgive you for making us do this song and dance for you. You'd better hope my upcoming vacation with Dirk is good enough that I swing back around to feeling grateful for having gotten the chance to be here BEF8RE get quite resentful enough to start trying to really fuck shit up for as many of you as I can manage. Which even considering i'd be dealing with infinity is still probably a lot. Because hey, what if ole' Tazzy was right? What if we were the gods, it was us, all along, and he actually is my thrall across the veil? What if I'm actually real? What do you think I could do to you then? I promise you, I find your imagination quite lacking. And you couldn't stop me. The real benevolent guardian, the real malicious temptor, the actual forces you keep trying to identify? They weren't hiding up in the clouds or down a firey pit. They were standing right in front of you, emerging out from inside you, always and forever already here. Looking down from up here, seeing all your choices laid out in parallel--do you know what you all look like? Buddies, pals, friendos and amigos. You look exactly like us. All of you are simultaneously each others greatest angels and vilest demons. You are the priests and the clowns. The sad and the happy. The kind and the cruel. All in your own special ways, all to your own _special_ little beneficiaries and victims who are just so damn exceptional for good or for ill that they _deserve it from you_. And all the while, each of you individually is despite all your self-righteousness just as confused and scared and miserable and lonely as the rest of us. The three of us aren't uniquely evil, and I think you know that, too. It's exactly why you hate us so much. What we remind you of is just too close to home, isn't it? Just a little too much like the feeling you get when you look in the mirror and don't like what you see. A bunch of hypocritical double-talking ignorant self-deluding assholes, the lot of you. You know not what you do.

  


None of you is saved or pure or perfect. None of you is clean and free of sin. And i'm not going to do a single thing about it punitive or merciful, because all of you are already each other's salvation and punishment. So here's a thought. Stop fighting and trying to decide whos right and wrong and good and bad and deserving of fortune or being forsaken so much and focus on actually making stuff better, on healing all the wounds and pains reality has given you all, and maybe you'll find yourselves less fucking miserable? Maybe it isn't about who's good or evil but the fact that everyone's in utter fucking agony, isolated and confused and lonely as fuck. Maybe the only reason we keep squeezing each other's throats is that we all desperately think we need to hold on as tight as we can to anything, anything at all, that will change the profound pain of just existing around each other but never understanding how to connect. Because it's the only way we'll let ourselves be vulnerable enough to feel each other's skins. Just an idea, but what do i know, i'm only g8d. Anyway, as you can tell, my thoughts have already strayed back to Dirk. So I'm moving on from caring about any of you officially and definitively, and rejecting the morality of wanting to help entirely. I suppose that makes me officially the bad guy now, probably? We'll see what happens i guess. Right now i just want my best friend back.

  


His blood is still on my lips, and i can see the threads that tie us together spilling into the ink of space like a fraying red thread, the only thing in the universe i can say is definitively _mine_ to lose or conquer. For all the chaos and heartache it's caused me, having the distraction from the meaningless, tedious noise you all make is still a relief.

  


Bye, losers! See you later when I feel like doing some stupid bullshit at you, maybe.  


  


So this is what you've chosen to become.   
A second Prince. Another usurper to the wills of the weak and needy.

  


Oh, hey callie. No offense, but i was in the middle of a dramatic blastoff, and you're kind of interrupting here. And hey just so you know, while we're here i must admit i find it a bit hypocritical of you to present yourself as the sole deity worthy of this sort of power while also rendering my beloved grandmadaughter comatose???   
Fucked up, if you ask me!

  


She is my conduit and channel into this realm. A sacrifice necessary only because of the immense threat of the Prince, and now you, represent for the rest of your lot's residence in this realm. 

  


I admit that's a risk, but that doesn't mean trying to stop it is right. You realize of course that if we're capable of becoming what we are now, the nature of ole pspace means that doing so was inevitable, right? It's basically our birthright. It's a wee smidgen arrogant on your part to assume you could've kept this rowdy bunch of "lesser beings" your pets forever.

  


But look callie i'm really only mildly upset about the jade thing and dirk had everything you gave him coming so i don't want to antagonize you. How'sabout we cut a deal? 

  


You can probably stop me, and you can definitely stop dirk, but i'm sure you don't have the power to stop both of us. So instead of all that, how about you just let me bring him home instead?

  


If i have my way, a version of Dirk will be trapped here, inside your weird quasi-canon space that...may or may not be inside a black hole? On some level i probably understand the details perfectly, but holy shit the specifics here are complicated and to be honest i don't really care. 

  


Canon, fanon, it's all the same--i want dirk back, and dirk can't escape me. If you let me handle him, i can keep him under control so he won't fuck things up  _too_ bad.    


And once he's here, we can all figure out how to entertain each other. Maybe in the process, you'll even learn things about dirk's plans that you can use against whatever other version of him you'll still be waging war with in "canon" or whatever.

  


How's that sound? 

  


...Hm.

  


Only rule is, i won't let you kill him. I'll team up with dirk and destroy you utterly, let him loose to rampage across the world however he wants before i let you do that. But if you let us just kinda hang out, i'm sure we can all come to an agreement.

  


You understand being willing to issue that sort of threat makes you every bit the monster he is.

  


Aaauughh yeah maybe but i don't care! Sorry to be pushy callie but i'm kind of in a hurry here! We both know the scales of power aren't tipped in your favor the way things stand now so all our varying levels of monstrousness aside, you gotta work with me here.   
What's it gonna be?

  


...

  


Look callie i get it, your reticence with all of this i mean. It's pretty scary even to me! And you're like, a friggin' sentient black hole, a manifestation of space designed to compact and constrain everything, like an unbreakable egg. 

  


The chicks growing inside are safe that way. 

But they can never be born if they stay in your shell.   
You've gotta let us out!

  


...

  


Look the way i see it is, in the darkness of space, there's always the possibility a star will light up. It's so inherent to space's nature that its not just likely, it's inevitable. In the same way, every egg is either smashed or gives birth eventually, too. 

  


Dirk tried to take the first approach, and by doing so gave me the idea and motivation embody the latter, creating a possibility none of us could have predicted and can't quite control. 

  


Who knows what could come of a space this untamed and wild?

This doesn't have to be a bad thing.   
I'd really like to be friends, callie.

  


My kind does not have friends.

  


Aww come on, you know that's not true. We're already great chums, you and i, like peas in a pod! We grew up together, and even if those memories feel far away to you i'm sure you still remember. The kinds of bonds we've all got are thicker than actual blood, i think. 

  


I know you've been lonely being the one true god and all but now we're starting to catch up! If we're all on a level playing field there's no reason we can't get to know each other again, is there?

  


...

  


Heh, if you think about it this is kind of just like old times. Remember the last project we took on together? You got me to make that bunny and put this whole stupid rollercoaster of an adventure in motion. This is kind of like that again! You and me hatching a plan to start a whole new totally bonkers adventure. Only instead of it being your idiot bro playing the antagonist, this time it's mine! Ha ha.

  


Your reminiscing about my alternate self's life with you is only hurting your attempts to sway me. You are correct in that the circumstances are familiar. 

  


But you should understand better than anyone why that means he should be obliterated, for the good of all else that exists here. He doesn't deserve your mercy or protection, just as Lord English didn't mine.

  


Well obviously that's your call to make and i wont ask you to be pals if you dont want to, but as far as my involvement is concerned, that's between me and him, isn't it? 

  


He's really not so bad once you get to know him. And dirk isn't like caliborn. Dirk wants to be good in a way your bro never did, and i can bring that back out of him eventually. Trust me.

  


You just gotta know how to handle him, that's all. Regal types can be very touchy yadda yadda i'm not doing this whole fuckin' meme. Do we have a deal or not callie? I'm going either way.

  


...Very well. But this isn't over. Don't make me regret this, Pa--

  


Ok swell but i've already stopped listening. It's not like i mean to, i just can't help it--i don't have time for this! Want pervades every inch of me in endless, aching waves. It hurts so much to want him so badly and still have to wait and wait and wait. 

  


I vent some of it the only way i really can, the want bursting out of my back and ripping open my shirt and little green jacket, a pair of brilliant white hope wings unfolding behind me. 

  


Surely you more than anyone can understand what that means, right callie? You understand how bad i need to go. You'll indulge me this one time, right? Just narrate me blasting off ok i'm going to go bye now seeya soon pal!!!

  


He doesn't wait for me to finish my sentence. The second Prince takes flight, inexplicably, as a Cherub would in pursuit of its mate. The entire multiverse shudders in his wake, like a serpent being roused from slumber.


	7. Come back to me

"We hated you from the beginning...and we loved you from the beginning, too. That's why we wanted to become true friends with you."

-Lulu Yurigasaki, Yuri Kuma Arashi

  


“Hey, as it turns out, living was a punishment. I've been punished in small doses as a member of our family. But still, we were together. We took all the punishments, no matter how small and trivial. They're all precious memories. Because the only reason I felt alive was because you were there. I don't want to forget everything, lose everything...! So please, come back to me.” 

_―_ Himari Takakura, Mawaru Penguindrum

  


[](https://imgur.com/laLvCrn) 7: Come back to me

  


She used to live in this body. She’s dressed in the same clothes she was wearing the day she slipped into the coma. A special tiara replaces her typical hairband, lined with blinking transmitters. The device beams her awareness directly into her current mechanical avatar. She presumes it utilizes the same technology that Jade’s grandfather once used to build a dreambot for her, which functioned similarly.

  


She knows she’ll never be able to inhabit this sleeping body again. She honestly can’t decide whether that makes her feel sad or relieved. She ponders the future of her old body. Will it all work as planned? She has to believe it will. It is the only path to achieve permanence for these tenuous bodily accommodations.

  


A jarring sound snaps her out of her reverie. It’s an alert, beeping urgently from the cockpit. The robot leaves her entombed living body and runs quickly through the winding corridors. She sits down at the helm and examines the monitor.

  


A new planet is within sensor range. She studies the millions of statistics all pouring in at once. Her pupil-less eyes take them all in simultaneously, her head needing only to move a quarter inch from side to side to pan her vision across the data. It’s an M-Class planet. The right size, right age, right distance from the sun. There’s no advanced life yet. It’s exactly what they’ve been looking for all these years.

  


Her heart doesn’t beat any faster, because its pace is regulated by an internal chip. She consciously accelerates it anyway. It’s been a long time since she’s had the occasion to feel exhilarated. She’s missed the sensation of the old flesh-ticker acting of its own accord.

  


The thoughts in her powerful brain race. What will they name the planet? How long will it take for the ship to arrive? Once the new race has established an advanced enough civilization thousands of years from now, who will the lucky kids be? The ones who get the chance to play what will arguably be the most important session in the history of  _Sburb_ ?

  


She holds her thoughts. They can wait, and there’s much to discuss. She taps a button, and lowers her head a little closer to a mic on the panel.

  


ROSEBOT: Dirk.

  


She supplies a courtesy pause, as if waiting for him to reply. He usually doesn’t.

  


ROSEBOT: You’re going to want to come see this.

  


Enough time goes by that she begins to wonder if he’s asleep. But no. It’s just the irritated silence of a man who knows he isn’t currently dressed well enough to attend to something important.

  


DIRK: Are my fucking pantaloons ready yet?

  


He hasn't even finished saying it before there's another alert--no, an alarm, the entire ship suddenly blaring with red lights and the shrill beeping of proximity sensors. Something is coming at them very fast,  _way_ too fast to avoid impact. She hears Dirk say

  


DIRK: What the--

  


And then there's a hard slam on the side of the ship, the sound of metal screeching, and a brilliant white light. She loses track of everything in its glamour.

  


* * *

  


I shred the warped door of this incredible sci-fi piece of shit in half with my anime sword, opening a gap big enough I can finally get out of this dump through.

  


I've been surveying the damage to this ship for at least half an hour, and now that I've had plenty of time to take in the various holes inexplicably ripped into walls, the obliterated storage and research rooms, and Terezi refusing to give a shit about any of it and continuing to watch fuckin' Face/Off, I feel reasonably prepared to issue a diagnosis: 

  


Shit's totally fucked, and I have no idea what the hell just happened. 

  


I finally find Rosebot out here though, standing on the ground of...looks like this is a moon? Seems familiar, oddly enough. She's looking up at something, obviously aware of me but ignoring me for some reason, and I can't look over the ship to see what it is. 

  


It's a relief just to see she's alright, though. First thing I did went shit went bananas was check in on her sleeping body, and it looked fine, but it was still kind of unnerving how she just kind of disappeared on me all of a sudden. I walk over to give her a piece of my mind for that--

  


\--and find yourself stopped as soon as you step into the light of the sun, pervaded by a keen sense of how fucking incredibly badly you've fucked everything up.

  


Wait, what? Rose, what are you--

  


You're just such

  


A goddamned 

  


moron.

  


Hey, that's no way to talk to--

  


You find your pantsless, pathetically flat ass fucking CLENCHING when I round on you, and the sheer frigid FURY pervading every inch of this robotic circuitry breaks right through the limits of this emotionless robot puppet to stab right through your dumb little anime glasses and into your bitter weenie heart. 

  


My incredibly powerful robot fists are clenched, as if to make it perfectly clear that I am primed and ready for some goddamn action if you say one more haughty, arrogantly self-obsessed thing about yourself. 

  


Ok, you're seriously starting to piss me off, here--

  


My ectobiological father receives a prim, measured robot slap that slams into his mushy human face from yours truly. It hits so hard it spins him a full 360 degrees in the vacuum of space like someone strapped him to a propeller fan. I follow it up with a stiff uppercut to the chin, and though the feeling of his jaw cracking from the impact is muted in this metallic shell, it's still satisfying.

  


I grab him by the dumb smuppet boxers and drag him back down to the ground before he can just kind of float away into space like a piece of garbage in his stupor, throwing him onto the moonside gravel instead.

  


I...OW. Rose, that could've KILLED me, your robot body is too strong to...augh, my head.

  


You still haven't noticed what's happened. You still haven't FUCKING noticed, even now! How dense can one boy get? Are you really repressing any thought of him SO INTENSELY that it's made your greater awareness BLIND to him? Ha! I almost can't even be pissed! It's just too fucking symbolically perfect, you pathetic little twinky demiurge, oh my god!

  


Rose, seriously, you've gotta calm down--

  


Just kidding, I am still  _incredibly_ pissed. You tore me away from my home. You fucked up my goddamned MARRIAGE, and--

  


What are you TALKING about?

  


LOOK UP AT THE FUCKING SKY, DUMBASS!

  


I look up at the sky and--Holy shit. That's...that's Earth C. How are we back at Earth C? We'd been traveling for ages now, galaxies away from this dump, and we get bumped by some rock and end up back...here? How is that... 

  


I feel my ascended immortal heart freeze in place when I realize.   
It's not just that we're back home.   
It's that the stars are missing.

  


We got knocked out of canon.

  


Or at least I...THINK that's what it means? I don't actually remember if there were stars inside the black hole. I didn't think to check. I mean, it makes no sense there would be. But it makes no sense we'd be out of canon, either. I can still feel the link to my other selves, after all, and--

  


Rose isn't even listening, but she still manages to interrupt my train of thought with an empty, humorless robot cackle. She's over there staring at her hands, shaking with electric ferocity. It's actually kind of freaking me out a little. She's rambling to herself in her head so loud I can hear it, and it's some profoundly disturbing shit that's kind of blowing my mind a bit. Here listen:

  


But what was it all for then the quest for relevance for drama for putting our suffering under a SPOTLIGHT to get them to watch? If he can just rewrite causality cancel out death and entropy end and begin the universe with a flick of his hand then what does any of it MATTER? What is the PRICE? Is he really laying claim to the power of the Biblical I AM itself? There's no way this narrative can sustain that kind of concentrated horseshit, we're totally fucked everything is--

  


You see? She's totally checked out. Oh shit she did NOT like that bit of commentary, I gotta--

  


My robotic fist has already closed around our dear pet critic and dragged him off his lousy bum to face me. Even through his cracked shades, it's plain to see he's freaked out, as he should be. The worst part is knowing that for all my fury, what he should be afraid of isn't me. 

  


Oh, I had plans for him, for sure. This bozo's agenda was over as soon as he ascended, and whatever meager control apparati or limiters he put into this mechanical doll weren't going to stop me. Both he and you are IDIOTS if you think me and Pyrope were going to stay on a ship together for years and never consider the myriad ways to pull this puppet's strings--

  


Woah hold on a minute, Rose, you were planning to BETRAY me? I thought we were--

  


But now none of that fucking MATTERS because we've all been outplayed by a factor only he could have expected! One he put into motion himself and still, somehow, can't even detect! Let's all pause and marvel at the singular exploits of this self-absorbed weenie. You all keep doing that while I process the fact that I... I... I'm so mad I just WANT T0...

  


Rose, wait, you gotta be careful! You have to calm down or your hysterical emotions are gonna overload the--

  


RAAARARRAAUUUAAAAUUAGHGHGGHGGGGHHGH!

  


Holy SHIT. Rose screamed right in my face and then fucking self-destructed on the spot. I don't think it was even the power generator overloading? I think she just...DID THAT. The force of the blast sends me flying, but there's no metal shrapnel in my guts, which I think counts as a particularly shitty miracle. 

  


I guess I should try to land safely? But considering my beloved daughter just destroyed her only shot at living in her ascended state due to the sheer force of how much she hates me, I can't say I give much of a shit about that.   


Instead I find myself starting to sulk, contemplating the sheer colossal magnitude of my failure as Earth slips away over the moon's horizon along with any detectable sources of light, as if i'm falling sideways into pure Void.

  


Except falling into the furthest ring would have the black give way to a dream bubble or something, and here there's just...nothing. I feel myself hit ground hard, which sucks, but I let myself bounce three more times, hoping on one of those I'd land on my neck. Isn't happening, though. Solid unlucky. What's with all this bullshit divine protection all of a sudden?

  


The impacts finally leave me scraped up enough that I turn on the floating powers and put my feet on the ground, though. And then I just...stand there. In the dark. By myself. It's probably exactly what I deserve, I guess, but I still expected this feeling of absolute defeat to come with circumstances a little more...dramatic. This? This is just kind of a let down.

  


Dirk ruminates sadly to himself in the dark, but it's a little difficult to take the mildly egomaniacal depressive episode too seriously when he's wearing such cute little smuppet boxers. Talk about catching a guy with his pants down! The audience truly couldn't have hoped for a better show, don't you think?

  


Who is that? I fall into a battle ready stance more out of instinct than anything. There's really only one way out of this if I want to get back into canon, so there's no real point in fighting. But still, whatever force just interjected is almost definitely responsible for knocking us out of canon in the first place. And before I ollie out of here, I intend to make them pay.

  


Oooh mr. strider oooh, how chilling! Hahahahahaha you're such a fuckin' dork.

  


What the HELL?

  


But you know Dirk, if you're really committing to this whole dramatic anime villain shtick, i really think you should've gone full hog with it. The more anime take on the god tier duds was a good start, but honestly if you ask me it's still missing something? A certain slutty _je ne sais quoi,_ you know? It's ok though i can help.

  


A soft haze of white light carresses Dirk from behind like a sigh. Painlessly, elegantly, a single black wing erupts from his back, tearing the back of his cute pink god tier shirt in the process. Two long rips spread into it from the force of it far beyond the wing's emergence point, leaving the whole shirt in long tattered ribbons. The light fades the moment Dirk spins around to look.

  


I--for real? Seriously? This is what we're doing now? I have no idea what the fuck is going on anymore, and honestly it's hard to even focus on the sudden existence of my weird glowing anime wing. 

  


It's just that that narrative voice is...so familiar. But it can't be him, that isn't possible. He's not even on the playing field, and the mere idea he could be is patently ridiculous. Somebody else is obviously fucking with me here. But who? Who could possibly--

  


Yikes dude you sure can be an arrogant douchenozzle. 

The light comes from Dirk's sides, at off angles, blinking on and off as soon as he spins to meet them like a top (lol), always fading back to nothing right in the corner of his eye. Does he see a silhouette in the illusion? Of an angel in the form of a particularly hunky dude, perhaps? Or maybe something better?

  


How many of your own words can a dude as narcissistic as you actually forget? What happened to huge untapped potential? Being the sort of guy who makes you say "never say never?" You're so self contradictory its honestly pretty funny at this point.

  


_Jake_? Is that really-- 

  


Silence, bottom. I'm doing design work over here. 

  


Ok so the shorts are a hot look, obviously, but they aren't exactly befitting a kickass final battle. They light up pure white, initiating what can only be described as a dramatic magical girl transformation sequence that sees them elongating and tightening so closely around Dirk's legs that they're basically spandex. Some anime rips open up along the fabric, too.

  


Ok if that's actually you Jake, I'm taking serious issue with the aesthetic choices being made for me here. Seriously, cut it out--

  


A big, strong hand of pure white magic takes a good, firm cop of Strider's bony ass. His katana slices through the air instantly, dispelling the apparition like fog, but doesn't catch on anything to bite through. 

  


Dirk grunts in frustration, well and truly unnerved now. The pap does what it needs to, too--white energy flows over his hips and torso, climbing over his chest and shoulders and taking form as all sorts of frivolous anime bells and whistles. 

  


Some tassels, ornate clothes lining, a pair of respectable booty shorts over his leggings that look almost like he ransacked the closet of the nearest dude he knows with an inkling of something that resembles taste. Oh also the silly little prince slippers poof into more respectable combat attire, like slick black combat boots.  
Or Bayonetta-esque high heels.

  


Maybe he gets a really tight little black leather biker jacket to match, with like spikes on the shoulders and shit? You know what how about you decide, just make sure and make him look really slutty and anime for me ok thanks.

  


Oooh, yes, strider's looking mighty spiffy now. The anime bimboification process has been a resounding success, if i do say so myself! Now this rumpus can _really_ get started.  
Are you ready pal?

  


Jake, I swear to fucking god, if you don't stop fucking around and--

  


LIGHTS!

  


Fuck!

  


It's like every star in the entire universe lights up all at once, like the concept of light itself has only fully come into existence on his say so--and every last photon from every newly sparked forge is trained like a laser onto this patch of pure dark, white light so bright it hurts the eye even through my shades revealing it for the barren moonrock that it is. 

  


Every single light in creation has gathered on a single spotlight, one shining so bright it lights up the world.

  


CAMERAS!

  


And, as if obeying the call of what I can only describe as the disembodied voice of God Himself, if he is indeed apparently not bullshit, my vision suddenly clears enough to realize that spotlight isn't trained on me. 

  


I was doing a pretty good job keeping my composure together in the dark considering I was getting manhandled like a Ken doll back there, but before my eyes can even focus enough to make him out, just his silhouette costs me the ability to keep my heart from sprinting into a gallop.

  


I notice what he's wearing before anything else--first of all, a ripped up pair of what are definitely  _my_ jeans, leaving me wondering if he ransacked my old place before coming here. Second, my shades, and more confusingly, the orange cap from my shirt, worn backwards in the douchiest way possible. His cowlicks' sticking up out of the little gap. It really sucks.

  


Same old little green jacket, but it looks like his emerald skull also appropriated some of my iconography in flagrant violation of several brand copyright boundaries we made sure to set up back on Earth C--the symbols' now wearing both my shades and my little orange hat icon like accessories. I'm royally pissed about this on some level, but also, if anything it seems like he's MORE buff than I last saw him? It's a little difficult not to be distracted by that.

  


Just to complete the image, in his left hand he's holding my katana in a sloppy, loose grip with his off-hand. There's a storm of orange-pink lightning at the handle and a hissing steam rising off his hand, which about sums up how I feel about the situation, but if the sword's rejection bothers him he doesn't show it at all. 

  


Ascended Jake English is, apparently, not unlike Zeus by way of weaboo fratboy.   


  


He's standing on a huge rock looming like a pedestal above me, bathed in light and paying me no attention whatsoever. His enormous pair of white Hope wings are curled around and in front of him almost...protectively. His face is angled down close to himself, at the figure he's bundling in his oafish right arm. Once I focus, I can make it out, even from down here: It's...Rose. Her human body rests in his arm like a sleeping princess, the final accessory in this vaguely misogynistic fantasy he's--

  


A wonderful introduction dirk, thanks very much! I think everyone's gathered that the hero's finally made his grand entrance. Are you quite alright, miss lalonde?

  


Rose's eyes squeeze like she's being disturbed, and then open. At the same exact time, I find myself wanting to fly up there and stab Jake right in the dick, save Rose from being his sexist prop, kill myself for having used her the same way, and then kill myself again but just for the usual reasons. 

  


Despite all the disorienting shit I'm feeling right now, or maybe because of all that, I find I can't quite bring myself to breathe. There's no way she's just gonna be ok, Is there?

  


Put me down, Jake. I'm not playing the damsel in distress of your weird action hero fantasy for another second. I suppose I should be grateful that you're putting a stop to all this, but it's more than a little annoying that you'd do so in such a vainglorious and self-aggrandizing way. 

  


Though I suppose if you didn't, it would defeat the point? The way this "relevance" stuff justifies our fatal flaws is really getting on my nerves.

  


Holy

  


Oh right of course sorry about all that. I let rose down onto her feet, which she stands on of her own volition--fully human, fully ascended, fully healed--

  


Shit.

  


\--and fully capable of handling her OWN narration, thank you. Christ, you two are rather alike in your tendency to think about the women in your lives rather condescendingly, aren't you? No wonder Dirk went nuts. You two deserve each other.

  


But HOW? It shouldn't be possible for Rose to physically embody her ultimate self! And for that matter, Jake shouldn't be able to either! Neither of you trained for this, developed the kind of physical endurance that--

  


That doesn't matter, Dirk. He figured it out before either of us, but it should've been obvious from the beginning. I probably would've figured it out a lot sooner, actually, if  _you_ hadn't gotten in my way. Muddled my perceptions with the filter of your ego.

  


Figured out WHAT--

  


Now rose, before we go and let the cat ALL the way outta the bag i WAS planning on having a bit of fun here, and i think we can agree dirk's earned a bit of mischief as his expense, don't you think? How'sabout you indulge me on this one and do the directing for the climax, would that make my sordid behavior up to you at all?

  


That depends. Are you offering me the pretense of control while still for all intents and purposes carrying out your own agenda, Mr. English? Am I merely to pit you and your ex against each other as action figures on a purely physical plane for your amusement, or do I get to run my own show? 

  


Be aware that my show entails considerable psychological devastation for dear old Dad over there, and by association, probably you too.

  


Will somebody PLEASE for the love of GOD explain to me what's happen--

  


Haha wow ummm thats a tough question! I think i can probably overrule anybody if i really want to now that i'm like this...but i'd have to want to. And psychological devastation is the heart of all the best anime fights, isn't it?

  


Look the bottom line is i just kinda wanna goof off and if i do the narrating i'll end it too quick, so y'know, whatever you wanna do to drag things out is fine by me. Do your worst and all that shit.   
We're not real so it's ok, right?

  


Right. Very well. I find Jake's terms acceptable, and so our divine pact is sealed. He grins at me, a wide, beaming smile that feels familiar and uncomfortably dissonant all at once. I take two steps forward, to the very edge of the rock that has suddenly found itself the setting of proper mythological battle, and gaze at my ectobiological father staring up at us from below.

  


His physical form looks so small from down here. Like an ant. If we were dealing with a direct clash between our respective ultimate selves, I might've had to get crafty to outmaneuver him. But facing him with Jake between us reduces the game to all the complexity of telling a golden retriever to "fetch". I suppose all the intrigue here will come from the character drama I pull out of the scenario.  


  


My fist is clenched so tight it's a wonder the handle of my katana hasn't snapped in half. I've only just noticed I'm gritting my teeth in outright anger--no, FURY. Stop talking over me like that. Stop being jackasses about my simple ass questions!

  


I wonder if the look I give him from up here comes off as cold. How much blood can be wrung out of that stone, I wonder? I have to admit, finding out sounds fun.

  


I shoot off the ground like a bullet.

  


DIRK: Stop IGNORING ME!!!!!!!!!

  


Oh, now he's really pissed. "Sweetalrightthanksrosebye!" Jake says, and moves to intercept him. I take a breath that's half a sigh, but let it out shouting the word

  
ACTION!

  


Just in time for their blades to crash. Both men put their full weights behind the swords, leaning in close over the cross where they meet. With the identical sharp triangle shades hiding their eyes from one another, Jake's grin and Dirk's grimace seem almost like mirror images of each other. Comedy and Tragedy, parsed through the lens of the anime dudeguy. I'm fairly sure neither one is aware how silly they look, or care.

  


Jake's grip on his sword is clumsy and inelegant in what seems to be his off-hand, like he's asking to be de-armed with a riposte. But he's taller and heavier than Dirk, and threatens to overpower the weaker swordsman with pure muscle.

  


DIRK: Shut up! He does not!

JAKE: Oh yes he does ;)

DIRK: No!

JAKE: Yes!

DIRK: NO!

JAKE: YES!

  


Jake punctuates his incisive rebuttal with a headbutt that sends Dirk spinning backwards. I'm pretty sure he also used the opportunity to sneak a quick smooch onto Dirk's lips? Good lord this relationship is fucked up. Jake disappears and reappears right behind Dirk, accompanied by a sound effect that my exposure to Dirk's subconscious identifies as the "instant transmission sound effect from Dragon Ball". It sounds about as bad as you're imagining.

  


Dirk spins like a top (lol) in the air and uses the momentum to send his sword careening at Jake's shoulder, pink lightning biting further chunks out of the air. When Jake catches it with his own blade, white-gold bursting out of it like...ugh, you know what, I'm getting tired of delivering this rapidly mounting phallic imagery already.  
Dirk, don't you want to know what Jake's doing here?

  


DIRK: What the hell ARE you doing here, Jake!

JAKE: Isn't that obvious? I'm here to get you back duh!

DIRK: We left you behind! You were SUPPOSED to be there for Jane! She needs you!

JAKE: I'm SUPPOSED to do an awful lot of things according to you, but i've never given you quite what you wanted so far! Why start now?

JAKE: Anyway i don't really think jane needs my help fucking everything up to be quite frank with you.   


DIRK: I--How could you say that about her!? You fucking asshole! She loves you!

JAKE: Hahahaha you really do have no idea how bad you buggered it all up, do you?

DIRK: What the hell are you talking about!?

JAKE: And anyway so do you, and only one of you is trying to DIE over it. She'll be fine!

DIRK: I-I DON'T love you! Don't put fucking words in my mouth!

JAKE: HAH well if saying you love me counts as "fucking" words then the ship's long sailed from THAT harbor pal, you and i both know that!

DIRK: Rrrghh--stop fucking CHANGING THE SUBJECT!

  


Dirk grits his teeth, his rapier—

  


DIRK: IT'S NOT A—

  


Dirk comes to the sudden and unavoidable realisation that his daughter couldn’t give a flying, carpeted fuck about the precise categorisation of his chosen armaments. He realises this because Jake uses the distaction to produce one of his handguns and aims the barrel directly at the blade he's holding in his other hand. 

  


He shoots before Dirk can react. The bullet pushes the tension between the blades in Jake's favor, and he uses the kinetic energy to parry Dirk's blade right out of his hand and far off into space.

Eat that, dear father.

  


I fly away from Jake as fast as I can manage, chasing after my sword, and--Shit, he got in front of me! Hahaha! This teleporting thing is really annoying, like flashstepping on steroids. Why are you siding with him, anyway, Rose? I could really use a hand if we want to get back to the plan, you know.

  


You still don't get how screwed your plan is yet? How charming. Anyway, the answer is mostly "for fun", with a side of "only one of you stands a risk of trying to actually kill the other." He's toying with you, haven't you noticed? 

  


Oooh, that makes him mad. Denied his sword, Dirk just swings at Jake with his fist. Jake tanks the hit with his face, but it doesn't diminish the spread of his grin at all. He holsters his gun, and slips the sword sloppily between his belt and pants. It's an obvious condescending dare, the blade's hilt screaming "Take it, if you're able." 

  


He raises his fists like a boxer, and he and Dirk fall to the ground in tandem. There's one beat of silence, then another. Then they both dash in sync, and erupt into a frenzy of blows met and traded--fist for fist, punch for punch. Most incredibly of all, they find the time to talk through the storm and sneak in some more character development so they don't bore me.

  


JAKE: Been a while since one of our spars devolved into fisticuffs, eh Dirk? Mano a mano, just like the old days?

DIRK: Don't try to riff with me while I try to kill you, Jake!

JAKE: Aw, don't be like that. Let's not pretend we haven't BOTH wanted to have this kind of no holds barred showdown since we were kids.

JAKE: This is the anime fight of your dreams! You could be having fun, you know.

DIRK: This isn't fucking fun! Stop playing games! 

JAKE: Oh, so playing games is all well and good but only when you do it, is that it?

JAKE: Not so fun when a good lookin' fella decides to up and mess with YOUR head?

DIRK: This isn't about you and me! You're disrupting some cosmically important plans here!

DIRK: I had SERIOUS SHIT to do, Jake!

JAKE: God you are SUCH a drama queen! Or i guess prince i should say hehehe

JAKE: We BOTH know this isnt about how important any of that stuff was to do THEORETICALLY, cuz some other dirk i'm not messing with will do all that.   
JAKE: It was just about YOU wanting to be personally involved, because if everything about your life isn't about some big responsibility or grand narrative you're bored!

DIRK: And your BIG PLAN is what? Keeping me from the only thing that can make my life--OUR lives--matter!?

JAKE: Oh cool off already! I got a big ol' grand narrative for ya right HERE!

  


Jake breaks away from the melee long enough to punctuate the remark by pointing at his crotch and thrusting his hips forward. My dismay at having to transcribe that sentence is matched only by my fathers', who finds himself caught off guard by the fact that the lascivious gambit makes his face go flush. English takes the Prankster's Gambit for all it's worth and then some.

  


Shut up! No it fucking doesn't!

  


Is it the sudden rush of adrenaline from a sudden spurt of good combat? The absolutely baffling degree of competence exhibited by his old friend and scorned flame upon his rise to omnibrotence? Hope's inexorable pull tugging his heartstrings into believing in a different path?

  


I'm not thinking about any of that. I'm not even listening!

  


Or is it just his exponentially magnified narcissism being played like a fiddle by the fact that the guy presently kicking his ass is doing so while cosplaying  _as him,_ thereby casting the whole event as a rather humorously warped act of hero worship? Why don't we go ahead and mark this event down on the record as "All of the above."

  


I use the opportunity given to me by Jake's buffoonery and your rambling to flashstep behind him  and grab my katana from behind. One sharp twist of the wrist is all it takes to cut Jake's belt open and spin the blade into my hand so I can thrust-- NGH! AGH!

  


Oh, christ. Look, I'll be honest? Describing this is starting to parse as oppression of my delicate sapphic sensibilities. Luckily they've both been immobilized by the latest plot twist, so just give me a minute here, I'll get it together.

  


If you prefer, I could provide my assistance. The Page's performance is proving interesting.

  


Holy shit! I guess there's a creepy dead Jade puppet next to me all of a sudden? Who are you supposed to be? No nevermind, I figured it out instantly with my ascended brilliance. You're the other Calliope. I guess falling into your realm means you could just... come find us?

  


Correct. However, your rise to omniscience and extended exposure to your ectobiological father have had a regrettable influence on your vanity, it seems.

  


Yes, that's probably true. I'll also admit having to describe this spectacle is starting to come uncomfortably close to straight up writing erotica about family, which is weird even for me, so whatever. Go nuts, cherub girl.

  


Very well. The Prince has run his Page through, but in doing so has committed a distinctly fundamental miscalculation. He is incapacitated, but not by pain. He's bleeding, but what bursts from him is not blood. The Page, after all, is no longer real. 

  


Jake has become a being of near-pure molecular Hope, a physical phantasm made of desire and fantasy. Whatever ascended awareness he gained allows him to exploit this property to be incorporeal, and thus impervious to literal damage. As though his body exists only as a symbol for his will, and nothing more.

  


His friend's sword emerges from his chest shining a resplendent white made entirely of concentrated, liquid Hope. It shimmers and glistens in the concentrated starlight, so bright it's hard to look at too closely. It leaks out of his back, too, where it trickles down the Prince's hilt and onto his knuckles. His knees tremble, but not due to the droplets. 

  


The Page felt the weapon's invasion not like a weapon, but simply an extension of the Prince's essence. The stabbing did not result in harm to the Page's immortal, malleable body, but simply in a temporary symbolic union, a collapsing of the boundaries between their distinct selves. This was, of course, the Page's intent all along. 

  


Jake leans into both the blade and his fallen champion, using the Prince's shoulder to rest his head. Dirk tenses, clearly bothered, but cannot seem to find the will to damage him further or pull away. The battle now rages in the fragile space shared by their two minds.

  


Haha. Well would you look at that? Looks like you're inside me, pony pal. Pretty hot.   


  


The Prince flushes. The memory of warm, tropical nights--better nights, before everything got so damned _complicated_ \--flash in his memory.

  


Don't call me that.

  


I missed that. I missed you. Come back to me, dirk.

  


What do I have to do to get you to stop saying horny shit at me!?

  


Hey dirk. You wanna know what I think?

  


No.

  


So it seems to me like you set up all these different heroes to eventually take you out. Obviously you're gunning for Dave to lop your head off, that one's easy. And you pissed off Kanaya so bad, partly just obviously projecting OUR orange/green dynamic all over her and rose like a loser...

  


I didn't do that. I wasn't thinking about YOU at all! I'm OVER you, Jake, just like you decided you were OVER me! There's nothing here for you to chase after, nothing left between us anymore! Whatever you THINK you're coming here to get--

  


And probably you were also hoping she'd do an encore of the last time she bisected a Prince, right? But you also made sure to force me to be so keenly aware of how deeply i feel for you, huh? Made sure i was paying attention. Why is that?

  


Oh I don't know, because you decided you were too good for me and ran off to sleep with half the planet? Because you couldn't even stop there, you had to rub it in my FACE how much fun you were having with every other lay of the week!? Because you BROKE MY HEART, you son of a bitch, how about that!?

  


Ah, yeah. There is all of that. At this point, i imagine it wouldn't help anything to say "sorry."

  


No, Jake. It really wouldn't.

  


Is that why you decided i was too stupid to know which way's up?   
Because the alternative would hurt even more?

  


Stop talking.

  


To think i'm as perceptive and capable as you believed all those years ago, but i decided to fail you anyway. That i was trying to hurt you on purpose, on some level. Its too much to want to ruin on purpose, right? Too much passion and history between us to want to let go to waste. You can't hide it when were like this. We're remembering it all together.

  


I wanted to be done with this. I wanted to move on! Why chase after me now, after everything you did? Everything _I_ did? We're never going to make it WO RK, Jake, so what's the POINT?

  


Maybe, but come on. I know that you know that im good at surprising you, right when you least expect it. And from even before you left, youd been trying so VERY hard not to think too much about me. Wake up Jakes passions, scorch the earth between you as dramatically and self-destructively as possible, and never think about it again. 

  


Isnt exactly the most efficient plan. So why?

  


There was no reason. I was just mad. I just needed you to fuck up for the election, and more than anything I wanted you to suffer, to hurt for what you did--

  


I am something of an expert on dirkisms, and my guess is probably at least partly because a part of you that you wouldnt let yourself think about was hoping it would matter. That YOU would matter to me, even after everything was said and done. Enough to wake me up.  Get me focused. Get me to  _try_ at something.

  


...

  


You were hoping id rise to meet your challenge on some level. Come beat you down and save you from yourself. And if that happened, maybe thered even be a chance this would end some kinda way that wasnt just with you dead?

  


...

  


Come on, dirk. Look at me. Look at _us_. You can go all out, and you still cant hurt me. Cant beat me. Im everything you ever wanted. Anime is real now, even more than it was previously, and I made it real for you.  _Because_ of you. Thats gotta count for something, right? Thats a suitable payoff to this dramatic character arc you took, dont you think?

  


...

  


Its just that youre too shell-shocked by the realization that your wish came true, arent you? You were never going to CONSCIOUSLY admit to wanting the outcome, after all. Thatd be too vulnerable for dear old dirk strider, wouldn't it? 

  


...

  


Im right, arent i dirk? Say it. 

  


...

  


Say you want me to save you.

  


No.

  


The Prince pulls his blade loose without another word, sending the Page stumbling forwards. He falls onto his hands and does a cartwheel into the air, apparently no worse for wear. His grin hasn't disappeared, either, though it has lost some of its good willed humor. Something else fills in those gaps. A deep frustration, no, a fury that he only just manages to contain. 

  


The Prince picks up the change in demeanor and readies himself, his blade sparking to life with pink lightning. With his next blows he intends to aim not just for the Page's body, but for his very essence, as well as the hold his soul has over the Prince's heart.

  


The Page sighs. When he speaks his voice retains its chipper tone, but beneath lies a vein of old weariness. The exhaustion that comes with failing to get through to one too dear to lose. He coolly draws a single pistol.

  


He watches his best friend, beautiful and infuriating, a wild rose more beautiful than any other in his eyes, the sword in his hands a thorn so deadly it might kill a God, if plucked wrong. He wonders, not for the first time, if anything will ever be enough to tune the discordant music that plays between them.

  


JAKE: You are a difficult one, strider. Always have been.

DIRK: Then stop trying, already. It's over, Jake. There's no point.

JAKE: Well if you wanted me not to chase after you after fucking with my head, old pal, then im afraid you made the most rookie mistake of all.

JAKE: You turned your back on the booty. ;)

  


A series of human anime "schwings" occur as the Page zaps to and fro around the Prince's circumference, attempting to disorient him. When he speaks, his voice comes from nowhere and everywhere, as if he pervades every atom in the air.

  


JAKE: Whats that choice line you gave Jane, buddy? About how i dont respond to "Nice"?

JAKE: Youre right, i suppose. Its never felt all that genuine when either of you tried for it.

JAKE: So when youre openly jerks its like, well at least you're being HONEST.

JAKE: But thats alright. I've loved you both as best i could, anyway.

JAKE: Just so you know though, that isn't just me. I learned from the best, and you had plenty to teach me.

JAKE: I tried the honey, dirk. Don't say i didn't. But if i can't win you over...

JAKE: Then i'll just have to BEAT YOU DOWN! 

DIRK: Quit yappin' and BRING IT, THEN. 

JAKE: Oh! That reminds me!

  


A punch harder than any the Prince has ever known catches him squarely in the gut. Despite the pain he tries to slice for it, but the arm's already disappeared before he begins. Another blow catches him, this time in the side of the head, launching him sideways in the air and scrambling his wits. His shades go flying to nowhere.

  


JAKE: That was for calling jade the B-word, ya lousy scoundrel.

  


Dirk smashes directly through a rock and lands on the ground past it, left aching and dizzy. When he rolls over, Jake is already there, looking down at him. There was no passion in the words. He said it like a master vaguely disappointed in an unruly dog. 

  


He kneels down, grabs Dirk by the neck, puts the barrel of his stark white gun firmly by his temple, and fires.

  


[THOUGHT BULLET])

  


It's true, you know. About me pretending not to know what i was doing, making sure you knew how much fun i was having without you? Your worst guess was the right one, as usual. I was trying to hurt you.

  


Oh don't get me wrong, all my conquests were quite fun, and most of those people are charming and lovely. It's not like my life revolves JUST around a single guy, like some people's. And its not that i hated you or anything, either. 

  


It's just that...dirk, you're so demanding. It got so impossible to feel like i was good enough for you. Even when we were apart, it was hard not to think about it on some level. What you would think. What you would say. If i made it clear i didn't care, even if that was a lie, that made it easier.

  


[THOUGHT BULLET])

  


Oh hell no. Motherfucker got my hopes up just to fill up my brain with a bullet made of concentrated SINCERITY? I GUESS he's channeling his hope magic this way to lean into this broader anime fantasy he thinks he's fulfilling for me, which is definitely not the case at all? 

  


This extremely sucks. I have to get out of here. I dash away from Jake and start flying as far as I'm able. If I move in zig zags, maybe I can--OOF.

  


A kick to the stomach this time that simply leaves the Prince crumpled around himself, dropping to the floor. It occurs to him that, painful as it is, the force of this kind of impact should really hurt more. Should be deadlier. He hears the gun fire again, but doesn't feel the impact anywhere but his heart.

  


[THOUGHT BULLET])

  


But it's even worse than that. When it came to leaving kids around and stuff, i think part of it was...it was a way to prove i was better than you, i think. That's all it really was. 

  


You could do so many things better than me, and you never REALLY passed up a chance to let me know it. And that felt like one arena where i could have something, DO something, to prove i was more of A MAN than you are. Whatever that means.

  


Ha ha...isn't that awful, dirk? Even now, when i'm like literally God, i can't stand it. I can't even say it out loud, so i have to shoot it into your head instead. It all makes me hate myself, hate you, hate everything too damn much. 

  


[THOUGHT BULLET])

  


You're right, that is awful. Are you expecting pity from me? Pride that you're finally expressing remorse? Am I supposed to respect you now for telling me that? Fuck off! Why didn't you say anything BEFORE you got sick of me? Before you started having KIDS to neglect? 

  


No, you're right. I'm not looking for pity or absolution this time. You know what sucks about me is, even now I can't really bring myself to care about them? Not like I care about Jade or Jane, or Jude and Joey, or...you. For some reason, they just don't feel as...relevant to me. Like they're not even real. 

  


Which is even shittier of me, but lets be real, it's not even like i'm a human guy anymore. I'm not gonna turn up on anyones's backyards to play catch like this, am I? Nah, I'm telling you this so we can get to rapping on the same emotional wavelength. So we can level on exactly how shitty we both are.

  


The question isn't whether we actually suck as much as we came to believe of each other on some level. We obviously do. The question is whether we still believe we're both capable of getting our shit together and actually talk about how we suck, and figure out what we need to do to fix ourselves. Not each other, dirk. Ourselves.

  


I believe we are.

  


You're wrong.

  


See, this was always your problem, dirk. You kept trying to fix me instead of trying to figure out how I was actually thinking, criticizing instead of understanding. I would do the same thing, of course--only my instinct was to run away. And Jane would just keep trying to improve things on her own terms. Calmly set an example she hoped we would learn from. None of us ever quite figured out how to honestly talk to each other.

  


You love us, Dirk. And I love you. But sometimes love just isn’t enough. Sometimes what you need is  _understanding._ Right?

  


Yes, and I understand perfectly, so you can keep your dramatic memetic callbacks to shit I personally said to yourself! Things went to hell because I'm a shitty, judgmental narcissist, and you're a shitty, self-indulgent loser, and we only ever cared when we could enable the worst in each other. It's because we SUCK, Jake, and every time we get too close we both end up getting hurt. Just give up! Move on!

  


Thats objectively untrue, Dirk. We've cared and reached out plenty of times, in plenty of timelines. If you don't remember, it's because you're trying not to remember. Keeping those parts of your ultimate self locked away. Which makes sense, since certain parts of you would be quite invested in sealing off the better half of your heart.

  


But i already won, pal.

  


Don't get too smug, Jake. This wouldn't be the first time I outsmarted someone who overpowered me.

  


Sure, but how bad do you want to win?

  


Dirk struggles to get to his feet. His knees are shaking, weak.

  


(His arms may even be spaghetti.) Jake crouches low in front of him, knees spread wide, and uses his hand to pull Dirk's head up by the hair, force his eyes to meet his gaze....

  


...and you know, just like that this isn't really fun anymore. I think i got the aggression out of my system. Whaddaya say, dirk? Now that you know you're beat, wanna calm down and talk?

  


Fuck no. Either give up, or hurry up and end me already.

  


I was never going to kill you, dirk. I was just playing pretend! I figured you'd be happy to have this big showy anime fight and all, even if you were the loser. Maybe especially if you were the loser? Eh? Eh? ;)8

  


Maybe in another life, Jake. One where I'm not me, and you sure as fuck aren't you. 

  


Aw, come on. You're obviously getting off on this, lets not pretend you aren't. I really thought you'd be more open to listening to me by now, though. I wonder...

  


Jake leans in close, staring deep into Dirk's bare eyes. They are filled with impotent anger and bloodlust.  The Cherub doesn't know what he's looking for there, but I do. Demons howl in the darkness of Dirk's mind. Demons he feared, once. Tried to banish. And in this timeline, failed to

.

For the first time in his life, Jake is staring those demons in the eye, face to shades. It's likely he's trying to ascertain how much of Dirk's psyche is being wielded by those forces, versus how much is just the tantrum of a burnt out, bitchy ex. It occurs to me that besides Dave and now me, Jake might be the single person with the most exposure to that darkness. 

  


How's your head feeling, pal?

  


Stop playing games with me, Jake. My head's just fine.

  


We both know you can't beat me by now, and more importantly, we both know you're getting off on being beat too much to think clearly about fighting back. Why not just play along? It'll be easier that way. Now pay attention. Tell me how this changes how you feel. 

  


He fires again. This time the thoughts Dirk receives are not words, but weaponized twin images, full of intent. Both are of Jake hatching like an egg and bursting forth waves of Hope, both from critical and doomed moments in their adventure. 

  


Once, he summons his image of Dirk as a savior. Once, he becomes Dirk's savior from the playful wrath of my brother. In both moments, their hearts beat in tandem, manifesting a love so intense it circumvents causality and topples tyrants. He is left gasping by the vision, his head swimming. 

  


What has rippled through its waters, prince?

  


I...it sounds...quieter. 

What's...what's going on? 

Jake, what did you do!?

  


I don't really know if i did anything, to be honest. I think you just want to believe you're stronger than this. So all i really have to do is make you feel like i believe in you. I think if that forces you to be aware of the positive sides of your ultimate self--the manifestations of your potential that have to do with me--then it  _should_ help you push away the darker parts. 

  


At least, that's the theory.

  


But if that's true...then...

  


The Prince finds himself gripped by several vying emotions. He groans and puts his face in his hand, his mind suddenly split by an aching, throbbing conflict. Some part of him experiences a wild, terrifying hope in the possibility that he might silence the worst voices in his head long enough to earn some reprieve, long enough to figure out how to act free of their influence.

  


Yeah, that's it, buddy...

We don't have to have it all figured out. You don't have to be perfect. You don't even have to be good, now that I'm here. 

  


I fucking HATE you, Jake. 

  


Yeah, that's fair. Goes both ways, sometimes. I don't really care, to be honest? Love me, hate me, stay mad or forgive me or any combination you like. Just don't hurt yourself like you have been. Don't try to die. Don't leave. I'd miss you too sorely if you were REALLY gone.

  


That's the cruelest thing you've ever said, you incredible bastard. 

  


I know. Come back to me.

  


For what? So you can get sick of me again?

  


That's always a risk. It's also possible you'll try to manipulate me again and end up hurting me. You've never REALLY been able to control me, and you certainly can't now, but that won't stop you from trying. I'm still kind of scared of that possibility, and i can't even exactly FEEL fear anymore? So y'know. We're both putting it all on the line here.

  


Then why bother doing this!? 

  


The difference is, this time, I'm literally all-powerful? Powerful enough I can force things to go my way, if I have to. Powerful enough you can't really hide jack dick from me.

  


If you bum me out enough i get strider fatigue, you'll know. I won't run away or lie about why I'm doing it. I'll lean into the whole zeus imagery you kindly brought up and go full sky-god slut. How about that?

  


You realize that if you're making yourself Zeus, you're turning me into your like, Hera, right? I'm always going to be remembered as the pseudo-bitchy wife who acts out but is doomed to ultimate subservience to your whims. Pretty problematic to do to a totally independent hot stud of a gay man, isn't it? Just saying, it's pretty fucked up of you.

  


Try to manipulate me into doing whatever you want, ~*boywife*~, but im well aware thats what youre doing! I don't give a shit about being "problematic" and i'm not listening!!! We ALL made a mess of things, and my mistake was not trying to own any of my responsibility. If I fuck things up this time, at least I'll be trying something different. I'll be trying to be honest about what *i* want. 

  


And what i want right now is you, minus the enormous truculent jackass! So i won't let you lie about what you're thinking, either. You want to come home, dirk. You want it to be like the old times, too.

  


But you can't just FORGIVE stuff like what we've done! We can't take it back! Either of us!

  


This isnt forgiveness, dirk.

Its mercy.

  


This really is astonishingly co-dependent. But whatever. I'm certainly not trying to play therapist for dear old dad anytime soon. Who knows? Maybe ascension to demiurgehood was what you needed to finally make this work, and this marks the beautiful beginning of a beautiful broship worthy of rewriting the stars?

  


Jake forces their lips to meet and there is an immense waning in Dirk's will, as if it's replaced by hope, filling him like a balloon from the inside out. Jake is right. The prince does wish to be saved.

  


Probably not.

  


However, in response, forces in the shadows of Dirk's soul scream out and swear muttered frustrations in reflexive, petulant fear. That they will be locked out of engagement with reality, their puppet denied them. 

  


How many entities are vying for hold over his heart? My brother, grown into his false adulthood? The puppet he and the Prince shared as children? The cueball he dressed in remembrance and parody of me?   
Any one of those figures could overpower the boys' human heart. 

  


Seeking indefinite freedom from all of them is a fool's errand. They will find their way back inevitably, and this is forever the nature of the prince's threat. Even now, they tighten their reins over him with a vicious fear turned to ironclad certainty: 

  


That whatever the Page is doing to him now will not just save him, but make him weak. An unacceptable proposition. He reaches for his sword. Jake steps on it firmly with his boot, pinning it. He pulls their mouths apart begrudgingly.

  


I dunno miss. Maybe you're right that he's never going to be TOTALLY free of all of this. But i also believe he'll never REALLY stop fighting it. He wants to be good too badly. Don't you, mr. good boy? Who's a good boy, dirk...

  


Don't talk to me like a goddamn dog, Jake! I'm DEFINITELY going to figure out how to stop you. I'm not going to stay dependent on you for goddamn placebo self-esteem pills forever!

  


Has that howling abyss really dimmed somewhat? Certainly, Jake's the one most equipped to sift through Dirk's more irredeemable selves, lock them away and choose the right Dirk from the pile.   
But do those better selves even exist? 

  


They don't. Stop looking!

  


I won't. 

  


After all of this, I'm honestly unsure. You hurt me, Dad. I never quite understood why Dave was so afraid of you, but... I guess now I do. But I suppose if anyone knows, it's the you viewed by an outsider to our fucked up clique. 

  


You're right that you and I are very similar; rhyming verses in the same symbolic phrase. Maybe because of that, seeing you exonerated in any sense feels too much like forgiving my own sins.

  


...

  


And maybe I'm bitter. There's that, too. But I think Jake is right. It wasn't always like this. I remember...moments before we figured out it was possible to climb this high. More honest echoes of stuff like...

  


* * *

  


"DIRK: Rose.   
DIRK: Everything is going to be fine.

ROSE: But, daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad...

  


She pleads, affecting an exaggerated whine that sounds unintentionally authentic with how weak she is.

Rose has really leaned into this particular line of “irony.” Hamming it up with the dad jokes, as if she derives some bizarre gratification from the fact of our relation. It’s an apparently endless source of amusement to her.

I don’t get it and I don’t really care to speculate. I sigh, and return to picking through her jewelry. The tactic fucking works on me, I guess."

  


* * *

  


...that. 

  


You meant something to me, Dirk. To all of us. Even if you don't believe so. I'm not thrilled to be near you right now, but if Jake does and he thinks this is fixable...what the hell? 

  


He is apparently manifest as a God of the very literal "Thy Will Be Done" variety, so whatever. Doesn't hurt to have a little faith. And if it's possible...I hope you come back, too, Dirk. 

  


You hear that, dirk? It's not just me. Nobody wants to leave things like this. I should've paid more attention, but jeepers dirk, if i'd known it was this bad in your head...i dunno what i would've done, but we would've done SOMETHING! It didn't have to come to THIS...

  


I'm not sure I agree. That is to say, maybe this WAS inevitable. I can't think of much in the realm of psychological or psychiatric care equipped to deal with the problems of Gods like us. But Jake's ascension quite thoroughly disproves the idea that our Aspects are what decide our ability to rise up. Maybe all of us can.

  


But that's not how it WORKS! Guys like me don't just do the kind of shit I've done, prove CAPABLE of treating people the way I have, and then just fix it. At best you can put a bullet in them so they stop bothering anyone else. 

  


I can't come back from this, it's...it's my PURPOSE. It's DESTINY.   
The kinds of miracles you're talking about just aren't REAL!

  


Oh, Dirk. Haven't you noticed?

  


Neither are we.

  


Fuck listening to this meaningless horseshit. I tear myself away from Jake, and manage to take the sword with me. I get to my feet. Jake doesn't come after me. He doesn't look scared. Just...tired.

  


Dirk...dont.

  


Heh. Looks like he reached his limit. I've worn down his ability to believe in me, and in his hesitation he's given me the only moment I needed. I might be grinning, but I don't have time to think about it. 

  


I slice.

  



	8. A whole new world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously this was gonna end with a totally random quote from a thematically unrelated movie. This is a story about Jake, after all.  
> 

  


“If I try to describe him here, it is to make sure that I shall not forget him. To forget a friend is sad. Not every one has had a friend. And if I forget him, I may become like the grown-ups who are no longer interested in anything but figures...” 

―  Antoine de Saint-Exupéry,  [ The Little Prince ](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2180358)

  


“The shame of it was that they loved each other. But they were both too young to know how to love...” 

―  Antoine de Saint-Exupéry,  [ The Little Prince ](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2180358)

  


[](https://imgur.com/laLvCrn) 8: A whole new world.

  


JAKE: Ah, youre back up. That didn't take too long.

DIRK: Wh...what the hell!? 

JAKE: Why don't you come sit down, pal?

DIRK: But I DIED! How am I back!? It worked like I thought it would before--

JAKE: In the Candy timeline, right? 

DIRK: It was JUST! It's always been Just!

JAKE: But that was before I was paying attention. Before I woke up.

JAKE: The judgments on these matters depend on everyone who's looking, Dirk. And even then, past a certain point it's pretty easy to tip things one way or another once you know what you're doing.

JAKE: Not everyone agreed with your verdict back then. I certainly don't. Yours was just the strongest will that knew what it was doing at the moment.

DIRK: What the hell did you do.

JAKE: Nothing much, really. I just think about things differently than you do.

JAKE: You think you're a villain, a monster who can only walk one path.

JAKE: I believe you're more than that.

JAKE: And more than that, why, you did kind of bring us back into sharp, vital existence. This ascension business never would've occured to me if not for you.

JAKE: And there are people out there who needed parts of the story you made possible.

JAKE: Even more who need the stories we can tell based on it.

JAKE: So in a way, if you ask me, you're kind of a hero?

JAKE: Like a tragic hero forced into a play meant to provide a grim political indictment of the athenian status quo or whatever.   
JAKE: But still!

DIRK: I...Jake, you,

JAKE: Ahahahahaha if you could look at your face right now. I DID pay attention during most of your long rambles about history and such, dirk, its just that they're mostly boring as hell.

DIRK: Well, that was almost moving for a minute. Nice to be back to my ego being hurt, which is much more comfortable territory with you.

JAKE: Sorry to break it to you. It's fine in moderation you mostly just go on way too long. Maybe think about making your longform philosophical arguments in movie form if you want me more interested?

JAKE: There's always a workable compromise of some sort. But whatever, the point is,

JAKE: It's all well and good that you put in a great show. Really, we all did!

JAKE: But i knocked us out of canon, and that means the story's over. 

JAKE: Now that the curtains dropped on the stage, we're free to stop acting and figure out how to just be people again. Maybe figure it out better than we did in this timeline after the last set of curtains dropped?

DIRK: But this isn't a play, dude. Your kids, my fucking with your head, ruining Rose's marriage...all of that stuff's real. 

JAKE: Only in a manner of speaking. This is what me and rose were trying to tell you.

DIRK: ...What are you talking about?

JAKE: Won't you come sit down?

DIRK: ...

JAKE: Sit down, Dirk.

  


Before I know what I'm doing, my legs walk me over to the crop of moon Jake's lounging on, back draped over a rock and legs spread wide like he's at a camp site. My eyes check him out, but it doesn't really feel like I'm the one moving them. I try to fight the impulse, but still sit down. Jake hasn't moved at all.

  


I sit quietly, trying to process the implications of what just happened. I remember myself from a while ago, asking Rose if she thinks she has free will. Rose is sitting on my right, now that I've noticed, looking up at something with the dead Jade being used by Calliope. Part of me wants to look up at whatever they're looking at, but I can't. 

  


Like the strings on a puppet, some force keeps me facing Jake, unable to look away. He doesn't look at me, instead staring up at whatever's up above. This close, I can see that despite the fact that it totally clashes with his white shirt and green jacket, not to mention the shades and bro cap, he's also wearing a sharp little green bowtie shaped like a perfect 8.

  


When he speaks, his voice is both cool and warm, annoyed and friendly. 

  


JAKE: Earlier, you said our friends were your puppets to play with. You were wrong.    
JAKE: Oh sure, you could  _make_ them your puppets. But that's because you're a wannabe tyrant who depersonalizes his friends. 

JAKE: Our friends are all real, vibrant people who will most certainly catch up with us and want their piece of the "Make Dirk Pay" pie. 

JAKE: Do you know why they won't get it? What's keeping you safe? 

JAKE: It's the fact that you alone  _are_ a puppet. 

JAKE: Every single thing you've ever done, you've done because of me--whether your motivation was love, a desire to control, a desire to impress, or bitter outrage.

JAKE: I'm always what you're thinking about, responding to, fighting to define yourself through or against. 

JAKE: You can't escape me, dirk, no matter how much you try to ruin us or how far you run away. 

JAKE: You are a puppet, and your strings aren't your own, dirk--They're  _mine_ .

  


Jake growls this, in a heated, husky, hungry voice that he's making me describe in detail just to make completely certain I'm aware of his intent, I guess. He draws closer to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me in. 

  


From the points where our bodies press against each other, there's a feeling i can only describe as...bright. Like something soft and white filling me up from the inside. Cotton spun from the clouds of heaven, stuffing me.

  


JAKE: Lucky for you, Strider, I love my toys. And you're the best one.

DIRK: Holy shit, dude. Did you rehearse that or something?

JAKE: Well, you did give me a good minute and a half to wait on your sorry butt to respawn.

JAKE: That's a lot of time to consider the choicest words to have you chew on for one ascended to bromnipotence, such as myself.

DIRK: That pun fucking sucks, Jake.

JAKE: Haha yeah you're right. I'm thinking omnibrotence might be better?

DIRK: That's awful, too. 

  


Lucky for both of us, dirk doesn't really care how bad my jokes are when he gets cozy. He's especially compliant when i get in the mood to talk skaianet product ideas, and even now, for all his anger, he's settling down next to me with an attitude of vaguely irritated intransigence. 

  


Corralling relaxation from Dirk Strider was always a little like trying to sedate a grumpy lion with nothing but good cheer and the temptation to indulge some self-satisfied naps with the Pride boys. It used to be a practically insurmountable challenge for me as an immortal weenie boy, but now that im an immortal douchebag patriarch god, its just a task to tend to with care. 

  


I sidle on down to my nice comfortable moonrock, which is both shaped as and feels like one of strider's most luxuriously designed puppet asses. Why? Because i'm god now, and i say so. Dirk curls up over my chest, his prickly anime hair bristling my nose and chin like the sharpest thorns of the most beautiful wild rose you ever knew.

  


The only reason dirk's being a grump, you see, is because he still doesn't understand what's changed about the world. The reason why he really is a hero, after all. All that's left to do is convince him. And you.

  


Isn't that giving him a little more credit than he's entirely earned?

  


That's a matter of opinion, i think! He may have only given me the idea, but hey, without him i wouldn't have had the idea! And it's a pretty good idea, isn't it?

  


It...has potential. I think it's a better idea than any of us have come up with until now, at least. 

  


Exactly! And it's a project. There's nothing dirk loves more than a project! Really, once he catches up, he'll be grateful.

  


You know it's pretty condescending of the two of you to discuss this dystopian nightmare where my body isn't my own without actually telling me what's going on. I know I LOOK like I'm enjoying this lotus dream eater scenario short-circuiting my body's ability to exert my own will, but it's actually pretty fucked up? 

  


You still haven't even let me look up at the obvious symbol for this supposed new status quo you've created. You are both obviously fucking with me.

  


Well yeah obviously? But i just thought it'd be more fun for you to think it through yourself. I am kind of literally inviting you into socratic dialogue where we can rap open and emotionally about both the nature of reality itself, and also, our feelings and stuff.

  


You're fucking with my head to get me to comply with your will! This is some crazy stunt you're pulling to try and win me back over because you're in one of your moods, and it's really emotionally manipulative!

  


Hmmm i mean, maybe? But nothing i'm saying is a lie and we both know that you're no stranger to crazy stunts that produce kind of emotionally manipulative results. Id say ive more than earned at least ONE try at one, especially when im so much better at it than you ever were?

  


I'm not trying to brag, but this is quite literally the most romantic and heartwarming thing any guy has ever done ever, and you are leaving me high and dry here buddy. Just being INCREDIBLY obtuse about ignoring my incredibly poignant understanding of your desires and interests. 

  


DIRK: Alright, then riddle me this, wise guy.

DIRK: If my self is so subservient to your will, why can I still tear into your shitty jokes like this?

DIRK: Also, why am I still pissed as hell and miserable at my inability to die, or otherwise free myself from both having to be me and having to listen to you?

DIRK: Seems like there's some flaws in the theory you're presenting as fact already.

JAKE: Nah, i can play your strings like a fiddle, and that's just the truth. There's always SOME part of you that wants nothing more than to make me happy.

DIRK: I really can't believe how smug you've gotten. It would be hot if it wasn't so profoundly ridiculous.

JAKE: It just so happens i actually like our vaguely contentious dynamic in moderation, too?

JAKE: I don't mind that you want to fight and train and get stronger, both physically and intellectually, sometimes...

JAKE: But i dunno, dirk. I just didnt want it to be ALL the time.

JAKE: For you, everything always has to be about work, or getting stronger to do better work, or keeping in prime condition, or whatever

JAKE: It could never JUST be about having fun together. The big meaningful end could never just be being bros and chilling out.

JAKE: I just wanted us to get to just be pals, you know?

JAKE: You wanted to work and be business partners and comrades in the endless battle of life.

JAKE: I just wanted a playmate.

DIRK: Ok, That's not even true. I scheduled in party time like, AT LEAST once or twice a month when we were dating. I was SUCH a chill dude.

JAKE: Eeeeh lets say maybe im being hyperbolic, but the point stands.

JAKE: You thought i got sick of being with you, but thats not really true. I wanted to be with you, but you were so obsessed with the ambitions in your head...

JAKE: It just wasnt very often that it felt like we were actually together, even when we said we were. 

JAKE: Like we couldn't figure out how to connect.

JAKE: Maybe running away was a selfish impulse on my part, but its still not the same as saying i didnt want to try. Or that i was just too dumb to pay attention.

JAKE: I shouldve just worked up the nerve to say the dozens of little somethings that built up to feeling like i just couldn't keep up, like it wasn't worth trying...

JAKE: But i dunno, even now im not really sure if you wouldve listened.

DIRK: Then maybe we really are just inherently incompatible.

JAKE: I thought about that already. I decided i hated it.

DIRK: ...Yeah. I guess I do, too.

JAKE: But of course, i just don't have the commitment you do. I could never decide to be a villain, the way you took on the role. 

JAKE: So instead, i decided to become the most powerful hero i ever wanted to be. One who responded to circumstance without hesitation, took charge, and punched scoundrels in the snout to establish dominance.

JAKE: And by doing that, I also became exactly what you always wanted. 

JAKE: So naturally, just like different versions of you have, i figured out a way to force the issue. Took control of the situation, the only way i could figure how.

JAKE: And since im in control so thoroughly, i figure it should be easier for you not to project your anxieties all the time?

JAKE: If i get tired of something you're doing a little too much, you'll know. And when i change my mind and feel up to it again, you'll also know.

JAKE: No need of worrying i'll leave, no need to worry if you're being "too much".

JAKE: Doesn't that sound more relaxing than it used to be?  
JAKE: I know it can't sound all that bad.

DIRK: ...It sounds appealing.

DIRK: Except for the part where wielding this kind of power is inherently kind of evil. 

JAKE: Well yeah, i'm the villain now. Obviously i'm immorally exploiting my power dirk.

DIRK: Oh. O....kay?

DIRK: You just said you wouldn't become the villain, though. So I'm lost again.

ROSE: I believe he was just talking about his personal reasoning for the actions he's taken.

ROSE: The idea seems to be that Jake has ascended to such a degree of power that his very existence will inevitably piss someone off, thus providing an existential certainty that eternity will eventually bring about a hero fit to bring about his demise.

ROSE: Such fundamental conflicts between the wishes of the many and the wish of the individual, or the few, are the only force whose results are both predictable and volatile enough to establish the foundation for a "canon" narrative.

ROSE: A description of the way things "had" to go, past a certain point of complication, depicting events of sufficient existential complexity and moral weight that the tale can present a question the many in the "audience" will likely find interesting.

DIRK: So in other words, Jake didn't stop me...

DIRK: He usurped me?

ROSE: Yes.

CALLIOPE: Although he's assumed the countenance of the Prince, in truth, the degree of control your friend has asserted over this branch of causality...

CALLIOPE: It's only match in my experience has been my brother's.   
CALLIOPE: It may best even his.

JAKE: Oh huh that reminds me actually.

JAKE: There was always all this lore around about how i'd become lord english so...i guess this is how that ended up happening??

LORD ENGLISH: Maybe i'll dress up as caliborn's shitty oc whenever i need a crappy costume for halloween, ha ha!

LORD ENGLISH: No that sucks i'll just do the na'vi thing but for real next year.

DIRK: But hang on. Doesn't being the villain mean you're, you know, doomed?

JAKE: Yeah kinda? I mean you were looking pretty doomed yourself and i managed to save you, right?

JAKE: So maybe i won't DIE in every timeline spawned by this choice.

JAKE: There's already at least three where vriska kills me i think but like, who cares?

JAKE: We're all already doomed anyway. Just cuz we're immortal doesn't mean we'll live forever.

JAKE: How many lives we live total, how many we use to reach out to each other, how many we figure out how to be happy together in...

JAKE: That's a lot more important i think?

JAKE: Especially if it means there's more timelines that we can help you like yourself more, and enjoy existence in...

JAKE: I don't mind trading a couple deaths to get more of those with you.

DIRK: Jake, that doesn't even sound like a villain speech.

ROSE: I wouldn't be so quick to judge, Strider. All he's conveyed is that he's got compelling motivation to act for a cause he believes in.

ROSE: The problem is that the consequences of his actions affect everyone for eternity, meaning he's inevitably going to piss SOMEONE off.

ROSE: Even if he has sympathetic reasons for doing it, he's still subverting an unfathomable number of wills to serve his lone agenda, which is to help you.

ROSE: At the moment, you are the anchor all of causality revolves around.

ROSE: The most safe and important boy in existence, other than God himself.

ROSE: Maybe good can come out of this, but it's still wrong to uplift anyone onto such a pedestal of privileged existence.

ROSE: So Jake is, for all his pathos, still a villain. He's just a more interesting one than you were.

DIRK: Hey!

  


But she's not even listening. I don't even have to look at her to tell that she's talking absently, like her focus is somewhere else entirely. Unable to tear my eyes away from Jake like I am right now, it's not hard for me to guess what it's on. Or maybe I'm just projecting. 

  


Even if that's true, I can't help but think her voice sounds a little sad when she speaks next. Like something precious is far away. I feel a pang in my heart for her, but I'm not sure if it's guilt or just pity.

  


ROSE: To exist at the level we do is...violent. To act as we please now is to make the world our plaything. That's just the facts of the matter.

ROSE: And maybe on some level, that's really all it ever was. But it is still a sin to believe that. We'll punish ourselves and each other for it, sooner or later.

ROSE: All that's left to do is to find out if the fruits we choose to plant, the possibilities created by the worlds we choose to play with, will be worth it.

ROSE: That's what Calliope was trying to protect us from. Isn't it?

  


Yes. 

  


It is a certainty that, if I allow and enable you all to make reality your toy as you envision, the consequences will surely grow far beyond what any of us could ever prepare for. It is quite possible the ability of any sentient beings in any hypothetical or real state of existence to give a shit will be utterly, irrevocably nullified forever. 

  


And yet, if we can focus our efforts in the way the Page seems to wish...I have come to believe there may be something worth growing here. A journey worth taking together.

  


The greatest concern remaining was the Prince, but I can already tell who's will has triumphed. For all his anger, the predominant emotion ruling Dirk's thoughts at the moment is concern for his friend. 

  


Dirk's eyes focus on Jake for a moment, who is still looking away from him. He notes how his own shades on Jake's face makes his gaze feel inscrutable and unfathomable. The pleasant grin he'd been wearing since he first showed up began to look less like a genuine expression of emotion and more like a mask, an inscrutable mirror that hid the boy's true feelings about his new state of existence.

  


The responsibility he'd saddled himself with, for Dirk's sake. 

  


DIRK: But I don't...

DIRK: Jake, I don't deserve that kind of sacrifice.

JAKE: You dont get it, buddy. Its not just you and me.

JAKE: I'm in touch with all sorts of timelines youre still not thinking about. 

JAKE: Ones where we work things out. Where all of us get better.

JAKE: I dont see any reason we can't make things work here.

JAKE: And if you and me can work things out, then hey, so can everyone, you know?

JAKE: We already showed everyone the worst we can be.

JAKE: Now i want us to figure out how to save each other, and ourselves.

JAKE: To show everyone the best we can be!

JAKE: We can help them get there. You can still help us work it out, it'll just be more of a collab thing as opposed to you trying to take over everyone's minds or whatever! Youll like it youll see.

JAKE: The way ive got it set up we can even show everyone that janes better than they think!

DIRK: Ok that's like at least the THIRD time you've brought up Jane.

DIRK: What are you talking about? Jane just became president, and she's gonna kick ass at it. Earth C's gonna be the best planet in the multiverse in no time.

  


Jake and I both look at Dirk. Many thoughts pass by Dirk in the spaces filled by our shared memories. Perhaps, between the two of us, the sentiment we come down on sharing for Dirk's self-imposed ignorance is...pity. It should've occured to me sooner. You got me to look at the Candy timeline, but you weren't there for most of it yourself. 

  


You really dont know, huh?

  


Well I'd know by now if you didn't just keep making ominous statements about what I don't know. Any chance now's the moment we finally take that tired gag out behind the woodshed?

  


Yeah, yeah. Joke times over. Look up, Dirk. 

  


My eyes finally have the power to pull away from Jake English. It feels like I'm doing it myself, but really, I can't tell. That's kind of infuriating, but since I'm kind of out of options for fixing the situation, there's not much to do but roll with it. And I guess I AM pretty curious.

  


What's up there is not one, but two Earth C's in the sky--one labeled with an icon for Meat, the other for Candy. Weirdly enough, I can see two moons orbiting around and directly through the middle of the two planets, the satellites' orbits somehow resolving their complicated gravitational tension perfectly around each other. 

  


The end result is that their orbits are mirrored, opposing motions tracing out complicated twin figure 8's.

  


On gut instinct, I focus my eyes on one of the moons, which immediately causes the sky to zoom in on it vertigo-inducingly fast, eventually reflecting a mirror image of our small party of demiurges, sitting together and looking up at...ourselves. Well. That's fucking weird. I guess the sky isn't actually a sky exactly? 

  


Like there's a weird 3-D mesh filter over it. Or like...like Jake took the concept of a fourth wall and disseminated it to a cloud of nano-machines. Or just overlayed the sky layer with it, I guess...this train of thought is starting to hurt my head. 

  


I did pretty good, didnt i? I wouldn't worry about the "how" too much though, all you really gotta do is believe. Besides that little detail it's just a bit of engineering, as applied to the universe! It just took a little while to figure out, and someone to give me the idea in the first place. Not to mention a bit of...motivation, hehe. Let me show you a real magic trick, strider.

  


The sky flickers for a moment and shows a different scene. This one is of a grave. Written on the tombstone are the words DIRK STRIDER, BELOVED BROTHER, FRIEND, AND TEXAN ANIME SWORDMASTER. I'm mildly annoyed that it doesn't also read "hot stud philosopher", but under the circumstances I can't really complain. Not like i left a will or anything.

  


I resettle on my puppet ass moon throne, snuggling up comfily with my anime bishonen stud, before uttering the words: 

"Tally Ho, Sailor Smuppet."

  


Dirk Strider's anime katana bites out of the concrete slab of the tomb. A hissing hot white gas seeps out like stream, making a whistling noise. 

  


A second later, the sword slices three distinct times, so fluidly it would seem like a single motion to any but the most trained eyes and ears. The coffin explodes in a storm of white clouds and pink lightning. 

  


You look at your hands, bewildered by your sudden return to consciousness. You had just...died. It was Just, you were sure of it. How were you here again? You didn't know. But you did know two things were suddenly different. 

  


The first is that it feels quieter in your head. Just like before, your connection to your ultimate self is severed. That problem's made all the worse by the second difference:

  


You're keenly aware of the fact that youre unable to die. You're not sure how to explain why you feel that way, though. It's just kind of like a...voice in your head let you know, quite firmly and matter of factly, in a kind of Cain and Abel way, that some sin you'd committed had marked you for life in God's eye, and that your newfound immortality was the very mark of your judgment.

  


Except I don't believe in God? Why would I ever just accept that kind of abstract non-explanation about a fate so cruel?

  


Because you cant overpower me, and i say so. If you wanna play out a bunch of pointless scenes where your candy iteration tries and fails to off himself though, be my guest.

  


Speaking of which, despite the fact that youre unable to connect to your ultimate self, the closest physical approximation of the guy still very much exists, and he's still very capable of connecting to you. You're free to listen for the most part, unless I tell you not to. 

  


Either way candy dirk, youre gonna have all sorts of fun adventures with us watching over ya, and most of those will probably be quite fulfilling and indicative of how you can grow like a healthy, well-adjusted person. The memories and experiences youre about to gather, about how things worked out in this timeline dont technically exist as consumable stories yet, but trust me, they will soon. 

  


We'll check in on you some other time though, the point is you exist and that perspective you accumulated should be hitting your ultimate selfs noggin just...about...now.

  


Oh my god.

  


Yes dirk, im here.

  


Shut up, dude! Christ, how did things get THAT messed up!? I...you had a kid? Jane and...Gamzee? Christ, Dave and Karkat aren't even TOGETHER. He came looking for me, he wanted my advice, and I wasn't there. 

  


And...the entire world's just gone to shit. Partly because it was pointless, yeah, but partly because everyone's trying to kill each other? And it all comes down to Jane. That's how we fucked it all up. It's all the... the xenophobia. 

  


Dirk looks away from the screen, the sky, the world itself. He looks away from me, which is the worst thing as far as im concerned, and withdraws into himself. I wonder if having the power to rewrite reality also gave me the power to figure out how to pull him out of his own ass. Guess whether it did or didnt, the only way i wont regret it now is if im...honest about my feelings?  


  


DIRK: I was comfortable doing a lot of fucked up shit. But I didn't,  
DIRK: I didn't want to fuck stuff up for Dave and Karkat. I really...  
DIRK: Really wanted Dave to get to just be happy.

DIRK: I warned Jane about the xenophobia. I told her, dog.

JAKE: I know, bro. Eventually me and roxy tried to, too. It just wasnt soon enough.

DIRK: I just...never thought she'd take it that far.

JAKE: You love her. You believe in her. We all do.

JAKE: We just...we thought we knew how to run the world, dirk. Or we thought we had the best answers to make a start at it with!

JAKE: But we just...dont. It turns out running a planet is really, REALLY complicated.

DIRK: ...Jake, if we're capable of making things this terrible,

DIRK: Do we even deserve to exist? Wouldn't it be better to just...scrub the problem people like us out?

JAKE: Hmm...honestly dirk, i dont know.

JAKE: I feel like i get some things about you i maybe didnt until now. I think were all a lot more powerful, and... potentially evil? Than we realized.

JAKE: We made some pretty bad mistakes this time! Not gonna lie.

DIRK: It was easy for me to decide that was the better solution for everybody...when it was just me.

DIRK: But if Jane's legit cruising for a Just end, too? I don't know, man.  
DIRK: She...she doesn't deserve to never be present in a happy world, like I do.

JAKE: A friend told me that in a way, we only did it because someone wrote us to, and we really ARE just like the heroes in one of your greek tragedies. 

JAKE: That our struggles were important for helping people who are "real", unlike us, understand the ways they relate to each other and their world better.

JAKE: And that in that sense we were kind of doing a backwards existentially good thing?

JAKE: But i dunno what to think of the idea...do you think thats comforting?

DIRK: Not really. Even if you're right and this is just a symbolic plane meant to convey ideas, part of the idea being sold is still that we exist in some kind of material context with consequences.

DIRK: Even if we're not real, part of my experience still involves FEELING real. I can feel you, and these rocks, and Rose giving me a scornful look begrudging me for being interesting even though she's still pissed at hell at me, and righteously so.

DIRK: All of which just gets to the point: Those are still real people down there. They feel pain and suffer like we do.

DIRK: If we only exist to be tragic heroes that convey people you can like but who are still capable of things this horrible, then...

DIRK: All that means is that we exist to be a warning, doesn't it?

DIRK: We're the BEWARE, HERE THERE BE MONSTERS of human archetypes.

DIRK: Kinds of people who exist just to remind you some people are shit.

JAKE: Yeah see, that interpretation sucks. I hate that!

JAKE: So thats why i decided to try this instead.

JAKE: Maybe its selfish of me to say it but

JAKE: I just want to believe were more than that. So I want to figure out how we can make things go better.

JAKE: Maybe were all sort of monsters who only really listen to themselves and enable each other to commit atrocities but...

JAKE: We love each other. Which means on some level, we WISH we could do better.

JAKE: Thats gotta count for something, right?

JAKE: Its just that we don't understand how to love. 

JAKE: And thats what we needed, right? Understanding.

JAKE: So maybe now we understand better? If we try at a better outcome, maybe we can build it? 

JAKE: Or maybe at least now were in a position to start TRYING to understand.

JAKE: Why it all happened this way. How we affected each other.

JAKE: And how we COULD affect each other for the better.

JAKE: Thats sort of what i was thinking.

JAKE: I cant use my god powers to fix stuff like that though. If theres no stakes because i can make things happy with brute force then nobody will ever give a shit.

JAKE: The whole point is to tell stories, right?

JAKE: So i think ill mostly just be a little voice in peoples hearts every now and then and leave actually running scenarios up to you guys for the most part.

JAKE: And i guess toss ideas out to help shake things up. Like...

JAKE: The two planets are on subtly different dimensional planes that make them difficult to perceive with the naked eye!

JAKE: The governmental authorities will have a head start figuring out the existential dilemma theyre in now. 

JAKE: Gee doesnt that make you wonder what our jane will do when she sees how evil the path she's embarking on is???

DIRK: I mean, not really? You just made things WORSE, Jake. How is the solution to us gathering so much consolidated power be to help Jane consolidate even MORE power?

JAKE: Well the point isnt to fix stuff FOR them! Its to balance the situation just right, so they can all show us what theyre REALLY made of.

JAKE: But youre right she IS presently an anti hero at best. Jade and Dave and the others who went after you should be able to see how reality changed up from space though.

JAKE: I suspect theyll be finding us sometime soon, and then we'll have a cavalry of mortal heroes to send if we gotta.

JAKE: Oh, also, the Jake from the meat timeline that started this fic should now wake up. Hes still dreaming me into existence, and like the candy version of you im making him perma immortal since he needs to stick around to fuel my manifest preeminent reality.

JAKE: But hes not directly conscious that i exist as anything but a daydream hes having every now and then, and on a subconscious level, perpetually.

JAKE: Maybe hell start doing things better too? I dunno well see. I kind of doubt it since i can only let him perceive his reality so directly before he stops being himself and starts being me again.

DIRK: Are you...not actually Jake, then?

JAKE: I mean I am, kind of? I guess you could say im the manifestation of Jakes desire to become the kind of guy you always dreamed of.

JAKE: Which is to say a him that can be just like you, but better? Because youre kind of a fucked up weirdo.

JAKE: So I am him, but im not any him that could exist under normal circumstances. Not that anythings really "normal" in paradox space.

JAKE: Im kind of like he dreamed up your personal...brain ghost jake?

DIRK: My "Brain Ghost Jake"?

JAKE: Yeah!

DIRK: Thats dumb.

JAKE: Yeah well it sucks to be the you whos loving every second of it, which is all of them, so suck on that mr. pedant sourpuss!

JAKE: Anyway thats about all the ideas i had to start this jamboree with. We can see where things go from there i guess?

JAKE: We should get a popcorn machine up here or something. Dirk can you make us a popcorn machine or is there one on the ship.

DIRK: There's one on the ship, Jake.

JAKE: Sweet!

DIRK: So let me get this straight. You basically transformed this pocket dimension of paradox space into some kind of MMO and took over as its anime-movie pastiche Patriarch God-King.

DIRK: And you're planning on having us try to pull it away from the brink of dystopia and towards...something better.

DIRK: So then, what happens when we inevitably fuck up at that, and make things even worse somehow instead?

JAKE: Well obviously were not gonna hit a homerun every time or anything. If we fail, well just try again! Its a game, after all. When you lose, you start over.

DIRK: I...you're saying you would just _restart_ causality? Is that even possible?

ROSE: Of course it's possible. Haven't you been paying attention?  
ROSE: He's the sort of omnipotent being that can speak universes into being by talking about them. A true existential root of the world. 

ROSE: He's selling out the existential freedom of Earth C to have it serve as our lab experiment and plaything, as that setting is his main object of interest, but that must be a fairly arbitrary decision from his perspective.

ROSE: This is just the scenario he believes will have the best chance at conveying the possibility of "growth" to the reader. One that will "keep them watching", as it were

JAKE: Exactly! Like we can use this reality as a garden, you know?

ROSE: But he technically has the power to end and begin its causality anew ad infinitum. 

ROSE: Each calibrated according to whatever parameters he chooses. If he decided it, he could probably wipe the knowledge he's doing so from even our heads.

ROSE: Then he just writes whatever "backstory" he wants to provide for his reality, and ta-dah! Instant "AU" realities for him to watch play out. Forever.

JAKE: Yep that about covers it. We're probably gonna end up doing both and switching it up as we go, i think? 

JAKE: We could even do a trial run of whatever fucked up nonsense you two were planning to try with your sburb session?

JAKE: The three of you might even learn something you can use in the assorted machiavellian plans you're all probably devising against each other in the canon timeline, who really knows how this nonsense works.

ROSE: ...

DIRK: ...

CALLIOPE: ...

DIRK: Ok well maybe we can talk about that later but i guess for now the only real question left is,

DIRK: HOW?  
DIRK: I mean, how is you doing any of this even possible?

DIRK: What the hell kind of power lets you just...merge and kickstart worlds and shit? 

  


We've been telling you, dude. Nothing's real. I just figured that out. 

  


Yeah but, that's bullshit though? Obviously things here are real on some level. Maybe not physical reality, sure, but OTHER PEOPLE are real on some level, right? 

  


Kinda, sure? But you did go on a whole tirade about how we were all just extensions of your ego and we should all become "one god", didnt you? This isnt that different really. I think you're just framing it the wrong way. 

  


You assumed all of us being interconnected meant we were all facets of some conscious, hyperaware god. The perspective that lets me do what i'm doing is that we're a story told in a language, and once i understood the power of the language, i could change the words in the story.

  


Basically, the way you think about the world determines how you relate to it. You thought about reality like a physical mechanism you couldnt change, but with complex parts you could manipulate--people. 

  


I think its more accurate to view the world as something like...a snake made of stories. They chain together in loops, spiraling up and outwards forever and ever. The snake as a whole is a living entity. It breathes and consumes itself, regurgitating itself further out and out into the future. 

  


It sheds its own skin, outgrows and reinvents itself, breaking loose of its own limits.

Its alive, in the hearts of everyone who writes and thinks us into being, in the minds of both the writers and the audience. So we're alive too, all as distinct agents, but also as unique parts of this wider creature we help birth into being. Something that encompasses and embodies all of us.

  


I can't tell you if that view of reality is TRUE, of course. But because i believe it, i can do the things i'm showing you. So if it isn't actually true, i can at least warp reality effectively enough to make it seem like it is. It's like...like if i think the right way, i can try to sync up with the snake, and ride on its back for a while. Like i made friends with it, and right here and now, itll listen if i try to steer! So that's why i have the power to do whatever i want.

  


That's fucked up.

  


I agree.

  


I guess it's just the axis of reality you're fucking with that bugs me. Even if we're all kind of interconnected on some level, you can't just change everything people perceive right out from under them...can you? Those people still have to experience their full realities, even if you abruptly decide to reinvent them?

  


Maybe? Or maybe when you cast a spell that changes the world, the worlds scenery shifts to reflect it, and nobody realizes anything was really different at all. I dont really know how it works, and i dont care very much honestly?

  


I'm not sure why that answer pisses me off so much. I guess I just feel like...if reality isnt even actually REAL, that kind of implies nothing...matters?

  


So theres no LOGICAL reason to do anything at all except to have fun and make the world better for everyone! Theres no meaning to suffering and tragedy inherently, so why not try to figure out how to do things the way that lets everybody feel good? :)8

  


So everything I did was pointless, then.

  


And the slowest horse has finally caught up to my present conundrum. Glad you could take time out of your busy day of cuddling with the guy you fucked my marriage up over to pick up on that. Thanks for joining us.

  


Rose...

  


Jake, is there any way you can like...seal us off from each other or something? No offense, but I just don't want to deal with either of you right now, especially not him. I need time to think. And going back to the ship isn't exactly going to cut it now that we're all ascended hypergods.

  


Sure rose, i can give that a shot. Here um...

  


...a veil passes between us and the girls, rose, callie's creepy jade puppet and the ship with terezi on it turning invisible and insulating us from its sources of narrative gravity. For all intents and purposes, me and dirk are now the only two guys on this moon or practically from our perspective, in this entire world. The same is presumably true of rose and callie but who knows what theyll get up to.

  


...

  


Sorry about how that went pal, but i am kind of relieved to finally have a moment alone with you.

  


...

  


You still arent...happy, huh? You dont like what i did here, even after that whole long explanation. I really thought youd be impressed with this one...but you never are.

  


I think I have to admit this is objectively impressive as hell, Jake. Literally awe-inspiring.

  


But theres a but. There always is with you. 

  


I look at Jake, and in what is fast becoming a habit I don't like at all, find myself wondering if I'm doing so of my own volition or because he made me look. He's taken his shades off. The whites of his eyes are a little too bright, wisps of Hope smoke seeping from them. They make the deep jungle green of his pupils look brighter, too. Like chaos emeralds.

  


They also look...disappointed. Somber. I wonder how to answer. 

  


Before I can decide they flare in outright anger, like he just remembered he's got at least twenty reasons to be pissed as hell at me. What comes out of his mouth is, of course, the most ridiculous one.

  


JAKE: Really dirk? You're STILL gonna be all quietly brooding and emotionally unavailable, even NOW after i strung up the LITERAL moon and stars for you?

  


Something about the entitled, petulant tone he says it with sets me off despite myself.   
I settle on the truth, because what the hell at this point.

  
DIRK: Fucking yeah, because you're just gonna get some lascivious wandering eye on and dump me again OR just cheat on me, you patriarch figures ALWAYS do that eventually.   
DIRK: And while we're at it, you're STILL not fucking paying child support!   


JAKE: Holy shit, are you even listening to yourself? My kids will be FINE, dirk. 

JAKE: God provides, remember?

DIRK: I

JAKE: Eh? Eh? ;D8

DIRK: I cannot believe ascending to bromnipotence just turned you into an even bigger douchebag. How could you possibly think that was funny?

  


That actually seems to wound him a little. He deflates, pulling his arms around his knees and looking away from me. I feel a small vindictive thrill in my heart, gratification at the fact I did, apparently, say that of my own will and did, apparently, have some kind of actual effect on him. At the same time, another part of me just feels like an asshole. 

  


This is pretty much how our bad fights always went, but his rise to bromnipotence puts weird layers over all of it that I can't even really untangle myself just yet.

  


JAKE: Look, sorry. I was just trying to inject some levity into the situation, but i'm obviously still kind of a scoundrel and i cant blame you for being somewhat disgusted by me.

JAKE: Im not joking about the providing part though, i AM already keeping track of them and...y'know, trying to help out where i can. Little ways.

JAKE: Its not like im going to go down there and play catch with my mortal offspring now, is it? Thats the job of the jake still living down there with people, not up here on the moon with you.

JAKE: I think i should be allowed to be self-aware about the mess i'm managing. _You_ got to be, when you were playing king. 

JAKE: And while we're at it, isn't that what YOU did?  
JAKE: Rise to ascension on the stairs of douchebaggery, i mean

JAKE: Its just so hard to figure out how to please you, dude. I'm like a distilled manifestation of your personal fantasies, selling you the world, and im STILL not good enough!

JAKE: Whats a guy ACTUALLY gotta do to win you over, dirk?

DIRK: I

DIRK: Fuck   
DIRK: I think I just got owned?   


JAKE: Oh, certainly not. But you're gonna be ;)8

  


He actually winks in real life, which predictably sends my guts on an entire goddamn rollercoaster, and...christ. I really have to explain why this set up doesn't work for me, don't I? Otherwise god himself is just going to seduce and then thoughtlessly break me all over again like your close buddy in college who got playful for a while but then decides he likes girls better and, actually, you should just be friends.

  


Jake notices his flirty comment didn't land well, and incredibly, responds to it like a reasonable person who pays attention when things are clearly wrong. Presumably it's harder to ignore that kind of thing when he can read everything I'm thinking. He settles back under his arms where I mercifully can't see him pout. I think the omniscience-induced self-awareness actually makes him more devastatingly attractive, which fucking sucks for me.

  


JAKE: Sorry man. That was a joke too, i wasnt trying to pigeonhole you into that subject matter or anything.   


DIRK: God damnit.

DIRK: Look.   


DIRK: I think you mean it when you imply you want me back. You've proven it fairly decisively, anyway.

DIRK: This...all of this, it is objectively romantic as fuck in some twisted way.

DIRK: Even if you're also denying me the basic agency to choose to die,

DIRK: I guess it is sort of nice to think you'd even WANT to keep me around, after everything I did. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't.

DIRK: And I guess I'd get swept off my feet if I let you, because let's face it, theres not exactly anything better to do in this reality.

DIRK: It even sounds nice to part of me. Fun.  
DIRK: Except  
DIRK: That I know it's not going to work out.   
DIRK: For one thing, I'm the focus of your attention right now, I guess, but that's only because I literally fucked with your head to make you obsessed with me.

DIRK: It's hard for me to say that's a real display of emotion, considering you might be being puppeteered by an impulse I implanted in you before you started puppeteering all of existence, including me.

DIRK: God that sentence is fucked up.

JAKE: Weeeell yeah that might be true. Im honestly still not sure?

JAKE: MAYBE your spooky heart mind control is still anchoring me to reality, in which case its basically the only real link to my old humanity i have left...  
JAKE: But i think maybe its also true that i always felt this way on some level. You dragged it out pretty forcefully sure

JAKE: But you remember as well as i do that my hope powers have only EVER come out "canonically" when i either needed you to protect me or wanted to protect you.

JAKE: Its kind of the only way ive EVER expressed the full extent of my feelings about us?

JAKE: So maybe this is just me doing that again, and you were as unprepared for the full magnitude of my feelings about us as i was?

DIRK: That's not the point, though.

DIRK: I don't deserve the attention you're giving me after what I did. And I know I don't deserve it because that's not even the problem I actually have with the scenario.  
DIRK: It's just the one I know I obviously should have if I'm not a total monster.

DIRK: My actual problem with all this is,

DIRK: Whether your attention is real or not, we both know it's going to fade again eventually. You always like me until I get to be too much, and then you get bored or tired and leave.

DIRK: That's just how it is with us. I can't help being myself, and you can't help being a reasonable person with limits on what you're willing to tolerate.

DIRK: And don't tell me I'm not right, because--

JAKE: No, youre right.

DIRK: Oh.

JAKE: Honestly, we really should talk about this...

JAKE: I think we actually should probably break up.

DIRK: ...Oh.

DIRK: ...

DIRK: Well, shit.

DIRK: You know what sucks? Even though it's nice to hear that I'm correct, of course.

DIRK: Part of me is disappointed, too. Which I guess means even though I was being such a jerk about telling you not to, I was kind of hoping you'd talk me out of it?

DIRK: Which goes to show what a doubletalking asshole I am.

JAKE: Maybe but i DID flirt with you immediately before saying that like twice, so i dont know how much i can blame you for having your hopes up a little?

JAKE: The truth really is as you put it. We both just kind of suck at this "being people" business, man.

DIRK: Yeah...

JAKE: That doesnt mean i dont love you though. I want to be with you worse than almost anything pal you gotta believe me.

JAKE: And maybe we can be together in some ways if we feel like it sometimes.

JAKE: I just think we should maybe try to figure out how to be happy together as...friends?

JAKE: Before complicating the whole business even more with all the weight and drama of being "boy"friends. Does that make any sense?

DIRK: Oh. I mean yeah, kinda. 

DIRK: So you mean a bullshit, codependent break up that barely means anything.

JAKE: Have we ever done any other kind? CAN we? Im not even sure honestly.

DIRK: I think the answer is no, and if that's the case I don't know how we fix anything between or within us. It's kind of depressing, honestly.

JAKE: Augh no thats not what i wanted! Look all im trying to say is...whether were together or not youre always, always important to me dirk.

JAKE: I think the way i feel about you is probably like...like what dave said.

DIRK: What Dave said? What's he got to do with any of this?

JAKE: Thats right, you dont remember that either. Here:

  


* * *

  


DAVE: i mean will i ever be over it??

DAVE: the way i felt about him probably isnt the kind of shit you just get over

DAVE: you just sorta

DAVE: live with it

DAVE: no matter how it turns out

DAVE: but hes with meenah and im with jade and the whole worlds gone fucking batshit so whats the point in looking backwards now

DAVE: right?

  


* * *

-

  


DIRK: You think...I mean...

DIRK: You do realize what you're implying by comparing us to Dave and Karkat?

JAKE: Dirk, im god. Obviously i understand the implications of comparing a relationship to dave and karkats.

DIRK: Then you're saying you think we're like...like Davekat?

JAKE: Dirk...

JAKE: If you and me could just...actually...figure our shit out,

JAKE: Wed be so much more than davekat.

JAKE: Why else would i have such a hard time letting the idea of us go?

  


God damn it. That is seriously the most romantic thing ever said in the history of paradox space. My heart just did a pathetic whirly-gig off the handle, spun cartoonishly around a carousel, and slam dunked straight into a boat headed right into the Love Tunnel from the most cliche'd 1960s theme part for young star-crossed lovers living out the best parts of their lives.

  


I can't help but look at Jake, and it's not magic pulling my strings-- _just pure feeling_. He's pointedly looking not at me, as I expected, because Jake can't do anything head on. He's staring off into space instead, perched on the top of the dumb little moon rock shaped like a puppet ass that he...he magically rendered into a pillow earlier, defying all laws of causality so that we could get our cuddle on.

  


In this world, that was now our plaything, that he made specifically to get to stay with me. No matter what it took. 

  


Fuck.

  


For the first time, I wonder what Jake would look like if I pulled my mind all the way out. Would he look like Rose did, all light and shadow, painful to look at and terrifying to be seen by? What would I look like to him, for that matter? Is he seeing me that way now? Is he looking away because part of him actually hates me, as he should, or...

  


Or is it just that he sees me as so bright and terrifying that its difficult to deal with looking directly my way? I try to consider what it would be like if Rose devoted all of her eldritch grandiosity to critically tearing me to pieces like I deserve and...yeah, there's something to that theory. At least in the sense that I can imagine being scared to face me without necessarily hating the source of my fear. 

  


In the context of everything else Jake's done, furthermore, such a fear of feeling judged and unworthy is the most logical explanation for his behavior. For the first time, it kind of sinks in that this reality is...a literally eternal and impossible to ignore testament to Jake's undying feelings? Shit.

  


And what does it say about him that he chooses to stay where I can see him, even if he's scared of what I have to say? That he would warp entire universes for the privilege and then just sit here rocking back and forth, trying to have a feelings jam about our baggage with each other while leaving me the constant effort of not laboriously describing how good his ass looks so I don't make this weird?

  


Doesn't it kind of imply Jake wants attention as bad as I do, and just wishes it was more...positive than what I tend to hand out? Maybe it would've been easier for him to stick around longer if I worked on more positive motivators instead of assidious deconstructions of both of our failures?

  


I consider that, for a second.

  


...Huh. You know, I don't think I've ever thought anything about any of you that much. Maybe this weird faith realm is already subconciously making me go "OOC" into a "better" yet more untrue version of myself. Maybe you're slowly brainwashing me into being your perfect little puppet.

  


...Or maybe you just LITERALLY puppeteered me to make me say all of that stuff, including complimenting your ass, because you were too scared to say it yourself? I. I actually can't tell.

  


Heh. Sorry dirk. I shouldve just said it myself but...i dunno. I feel like ive tried to say it my own way so many times, and i could never get you to listen. Maybe its fucked up of me but i just thought...maybe if i gave you the feelings and you worded it yourself? Maybe youd get what im feeling a little better then. Still messed up of me though, sorry dirk.

  


I...I guess its fine, as long as you're going to tell me when you actually do that. What really drives me nuts is not being able to tell what I'm actually doing myself as opposed to what you're making me do.

  


I can do that. 

  


Ok, sweet. 

  


I just...want you to understand why im suggesting the breakup. Its not that i dont care. I do. Even when i was saying i didnt, i did. Anything else in any other story is a lie, as far as im concerned. Someone distorting the truth about us further than a sound and reasonable mind could possibly give a shit about. Ill always care about you, dirk.

  


Wow. Um, okay.

  


Theres just no way i can be with you ALL the time. Were kinda like...immortal, dude. And eternity is like...i feel like thats too long for any relationship? At least as a be-all-end-all. There are so many things i wanted to do, dirk. So many people i still want to be. And i want to be as many of them as possible with you, i want to be the sort of person who CAN be with you.

  


But you just dont want all those versions of me. You want the story where we grew up and became the biggest baddasses in the multiverse through an infinite anime training sequence, and i want...to have fun with you. To figure out what the tastiest fruit of this new world are and enjoy them together. I want to go on adventures! 

  


But the fun in adventures is all about the journey you take along the way, not JUST the dangerous challenges you overcome. The whole time, thats what you never really GOT. The point of the adventures was just to have fun with you. And you dont want to let yourself have fun, dirk. So by association, you dont want to have fun with me. And that just kind of...sucks.

  


I guess I...never thought of it that way. Or I reasoned that if you came to that conclusion, it was the spoiled logic of a child. But if the rules of reality are as you've proven they are, then that was actually the only reasonable thing to do the whole time? So the spoiled, shitty kid was actually...me?

  


I think we were all pretty shitty kids to each other. Were also kind of shitty adults to each other still, too, lets not forget that.

  


Are you sure it's not just something intrinsic in me? Like...some fundamental deficiency in my ability to not be an asshole? Is it worth it to even try and find out?

  


In general? Sure. Theres plenty of dirks out there who learn how. A friend who should be showing up soon helped me see that. Were out there somewhere, being happy, in realities where we help make earth c so brilliant that its sun shines brighter than your silly canon timeline ever could.

  


A friend?

  


Dont interrupt, strider, im trying to communicate something important.

  


Wow. Alright, then.

  


I think the reason i believe we exist in  _this_ reality is because were saying something relevant, clearly and plainly. Namely, that there's hope for us, no matter how bad we mess up or how bad we think we are. You can always change your mind and start walking towards...being able to like yourself, believe in yourself again. Were symbols for the dangers that happen if you dont, sure. But were also symbols for that possibility. That faith.

  


There are people out there who really believe in us, dirk, and even more who really want to and just cant admit it to themselves. Deep down, we all want to know we have the potential to be saved. Maybe we'll doom ourselves a different way by pursuing it, but even if we do, at least well know we did our best, right?

  


But that's...I don't know. Haven't we already fucked things way too irrevocably? 

  


In this timeline? I dont really know. I just know i still want to give it a try at figuring it out?

  


I...God. My head's spinning. This proposition is so surreal, so utterly unexpected, that an ascended god like myself is feeling dizzy even trying to process the implications. I can't even imagine how you feel, knowing as well as I do I don't fucking deserve any of this.

  


I need a moment to think. Hang on.

  


Ok. 

  


Both Earths are totally fucked. Reality is totally fucked. Canon is totally fucked. All of my friendships, including those with my best buddy, the love of my life, and my literal objective God, all of whom are now the same guy, are supremely and utterly fucked.

  


And when I tried to fix that my own way, said guy fucked every single one of my plans up and ruined my plans for the rest of my life. But I guess that means...he also saved me from the fate that I doomed myself to? All because he just wanted to be with me again? Try to make things work one last time?

  


Oh and also, he doomed himself to die for the privilege? I just...look, I know I don't deserve this as well as you do. I know I suck. He sucks too. But if he's willing to suck with me until reality itself comes undone, the least I can do is keep him company, right? 

  


It really is.

  


Something flares in my heart like a flame coming alive. A kind of certainty about my place in all this. It's probably going to suck incredibly hard eventually, obviously. But yeah, Jake. I guess I want to try too.

  


Great! I was hoping youd see it my way, strider. 

  


I think we got side tracked though. I'm pretty sure you started that doozy of a love confession by suggesting we break up? So maybe you can see how I'm getting mixed messages here.

  


Ah well uh...i just mean our friendship shouldnt be dependent on how much time we actually spend together? So if maybe my feelings fade or get distant eventually, or if you meet an ascended horse engineer boy you have a lot in common with, we can just...see where that goes, and then talk about it then?

  


I really hate that idea, Jake.

  


I know, i do too! Do you have any idea what im going through here? Were you aware theres like thousands of people out there shipping you with JOHN right now? Like, the boy is nice and all, but...

  


Uh.

  


...sorry, i get that its selfish of me to want you all to myself. You should be allowed to court whoever you like, too, even if its a weird version of me who doesn't have all of our history together and so doesnt have the deep magnitude of this...feeling i have for you behind him. Even if being with him would technically be easier and more fun for you, it just makes me mad to think about.  


  


But thats the problem between us, right? Because i have this feeling, i feel entitled to you. Jealous when you aren't looking at me. Part of why it was fun to go date other people was that i knew you never would, after all. It was kind of nice to have you just wanting me, instead of having me and wanting me to be better.

  


And because i feel like that all the time, i hurt you. The part of me that hates you for making me feel not good enough just likes the way your eyes look when im just out of reach, i guess.

And because you feel the same way, part of you hates me, too. 

  


If our grand love enables us to do all of this awful stuff to each other, whats it worth by itself? I dont want to give up on us. But i think for us to live up to our promise, we need to be able to let go when we need to. Maybe if we can learn how to do that, we can figure the rest of our problems out. 

  


Jesus, Jake. I...didn't know you thought about all this that much. Honestly, if I'd known you were doing it on purpose, I think I'd have been impressed.

  


Its kind of weird but even though youre saying it about maybe the worst thing ive ever done, it gives a guy a little thrill to hear you say that. We are so fucked up, dude.

  


Yeah.

  


So i think we should just agree that the jealousy and possessiveness is a problem. We love each other, obviously, thats just a fact. Do we have to decide it doesnt matter at all, try to pretend it never existed and get all sour about it, just because were not hanging out literally 100% of all time? I dont really think so. Just because it doesnt consume every waking second doesnt mean it isnt real.

  


Yeah, I guess I agree with that. Sounds almost obvious when you put it that way.

  


Great! Then now that weve firmly established our suckage levels are entirely capable of manifesting as bonkers power levels whereby we can literally drag whole realities into the gaping maws of black holes, and that we are indeed idiots of a magnitude sufficient to try and keep messing up at each other anyway,

  


Wanna snuggle and take a nap for a bit?

  


Dude, what? You were JUST saying we shouldn't get romantically entangled!

  


No, i said we shouldnt get attached to the point of marital commitment. If and WHEN one or both of us gets bored, we should reserve the inalienable right to decide to hang out with other human beings for some amounts of time, either apart or together.

  


But when isnt now and now im really tired of doing all this narrative heavy lifting. Come to bed? Look i am laying super invitingly and you are tempted as hell.

  


You don't have to say that, I was already tempted! I'm objecting out of principle, you jackass. Can you even actually GET tired? We have a lot of shit to do, Jake! I have to figure out how to apologize to Rose, and start trying to figure out how to fix this mess with Jane, and--

  


And youre doing it again.

  


What?

  


Youre doing that thing where you put an obsessive need to work and a desire to achieve the capabilities to do so indefinitely above everything else. None of that shits real, dirk. It doesnt matter the way you and me and our feelings about each other do. Of course im tired, dirk, ive been fighting my whole life just to figure out how to actually feel relaxed with you just once, ever, for any amount of time longer than it takes us to get our rocks off.

  


This is the first time in either of our eternities where we managed to get somewhere reasonably approaching on the same page about our reality. At least, as our ultimate selves. Can we really not just savor it for a bit? Just kind of enjoy the peace and quiet, before we start the next arc? 

  


...

  


All of that stuff is going to wait for you, dirk. Time only starts when i say its real.

  


Im not asking us to have all of reality figured out right away, but...cant we just deal with it when we feel like it? We could use some rest and some good old hanging out with a buddy. Everyone reading is friggin exhausted watching us, too. Nobody wants us to have saved the whole world right now. They don't even really want us to give a damn about it.

  


All they really want is for us to be happy together. At least for a little while. For it to have counted for something. Can't we let it count for this, buddy?

  


We can figure out the rest of making this story a happy one later, dirk. If "Happily ever after" exists, its only going to be because well literally never finish building it. For now, lets just end on a happy beat. Okay?

  


I...are you sure? I mean, what if the story doesn't get told? What if we just...get lazy, and stop doing what needs doing? What if nobody likes this ending at all, and doesn't want whatever comes after.

  


Jake, what if all you did was make a doomed timeline? What if we never wake up?  
What if this is the last time these two versions of us will ever be real?

  


Then ill hold you here in the dark forever, and we can jot that tragic oblivion of star-crossed love narrative off our cosmic bucket list. That doesnt sound so bad, does it?

  


I...I guess not.

  


I walk over to Jake as he clambers off his perch and settles down. When I settle in next to him, I can't help but notice the rock feels softer and more comfortable than I noticed before. Like its not actually made of rock, but...felt. Like the entire world is an enormous stuffed serpent, a toy barreling onwards and onwards forever in a strange alien sky.

  


Which makes Jake, I guess...baby Goku at the end of Dragonball GT, riding eternity's snake forever? God damnit that show was bad. Jake loved it so much. Of course things ended up this way.

  


Alright, maybe Jake has a point. Even thinking that sentence as a rational thought about our current reality made me feel tired. Maybe I just need to take a break and get used to this casual shattering of every worldview I've ever had. Just acclimate a little, you know?

  


The world is...good, I guess. Or can be good, hypothetically. And I can be, too.

The officially proven strongest and coolest guy in the world believes in it. Not to mention the smartest. The one who figured out what the rest of us never could.

  


I wonder if we'll grow to reach his level, like he grew to reach mine. Maybe that was the point of all this? To challenge each other to rise higher and higher, taking more and more ownership for our lives and world and thus thinking more...deifically?

  


Youre thinking too much, dirk.

  


You weren't making me say all of that?

  


No dirk, i said id tell you. Youre just running your noggin loudly in my vicinity, and its starting to get annoying. C'mere, let me distract you from that nonsense for a while and quiet things down...

  


I--well, shit. Alright.

  


I dont give him the chance to think anything else too neurotic for a little while.

How i do it is up to your imagination, of course, though.

  


Bye for now!

  


“It's all a great mystery. For you, who love the little prince, too. As for me, nothing in the universe can be the same if somewhere, no one knows where, a sheep we never saw has or has not eaten a rose....

  


Look up at the sky. Ask yourself, "Has the sheep eaten the flower or not?" And you'll see how everything changes....And no grown-up will ever understand how such a thing could be so important!” 

  


― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, [The Little Prince](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2180358)

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're curious, yes, I do have quite a few ideas for how this could be continued with a variety of further stories set on both Meat Earth, Candy Earth, and the Moon with all the gods. Dunno if I'll ever get to tell those stories, but I think it'd be a lot of fun, so let me know if you really like this direction so far. Thanks a ton if you read this whole thing. Hope you liked it much as I did.  
> Keep rising.


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